I Solemnly Swear
by Lexie-H
Summary: They've been out of Hogwarts for scarcely a year, and yet the time for jokes is passing swiftly. Darkness is falling on Great Britain, and some days, it's all the Marauders and Lily can do to stay alive. RR Please!
1. In Which Lily Gets the Best of James

**Disclaimer: All characters and settings borrowed from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I just play with her ideas. **

_**I Solemnly Swear**_** can be read as a sort-of-sequel to **_**Mischief Managed**_**, if you so choose. However, you will also be able to read it alone. If you do have any questions, of if something doesn't make sense in the course of the story, feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**1. In Which Lily Gets The Best Of James (Again)  
**_Christmas Night_

The cottage was small and comfortable-looking, sitting in what could only be described as a particularly picturesque slice of English countryside. It bore the distinctive feel of small-village living, and was quite clearly a much-loved family home.

In fact, it was precisely the sort of place James Potter would have liked to live – but for the fact that it was currently in a rather advanced state of destruction, literally crumbling under the weight of some particularly heavy offensive spells.

Sirius Black quirked an eyebrow, eyes glittering with irony. "A fine way to be spending Christmas, this," he murmured to his best friend as he hurried past, herding the bewildered Muggle family in his wake. James grunted in response.

The Christmas tree was on fire.

The flames had wound their way up the tree and were licking at the ornamental angel perched on top, now. Thick black smoke choked out through the chimney, but even this appeared to be under attack, because a sudden gust of suspiciously strong wind sent the thick black clouds tumbling back into the homey lounge room. The small party of rescuers still remaining covered their mouths, coughing, and all but three vanished with a small _pop_, some tugging the dazed Muggles behind them.

James Potter couldn't have put it any better himself: _A fine way to be spending Christmas._

It seemed an age ago that they had all been crowded around his dining table, toasting to happiness, friendship, love and hope. Realistically, it was probably only a few hours.

With a swift _crack_, Sirius disappeared too, his arm around the last of the evacuees. James felt his girlfriend stiffen beside him at the sound, and then relax with relief. There was a soft _whoosh_ as the lounge caught alight, but that didn't matter now. They were out: they were all safe.

There would be no tragic deaths for the Muggle media to report, tonight.

Sirius' timing had always been impeccable, and now proved no different as the wall collapsed in a tumble of bricks and cement, right where his friend had been standing.

"Lily!"

James grabbed his girlfriend's arm, dragging her roughly down beside him to shelter from the debris behind the quaint little bar counter. Her green eyes were a wide, flickering reflection of the burning tree behind him.

James gripped her shoulders, holding her gaze seriously.

"Lily, the first opportunity you get to stand, I want you to Apparate. I need to know you're safe."

The jeweler's box weighed at his pocket, and James thought regretfully of the plans he had for her, for _them._ He couldn't afford to be stupid, not if he wanted to see those plans through – and more than anything in the world, James intended to do just that, with all of his heart.

She frowned now, wrenching her shoulders free of him. "James Potter, you're not staying to fight them. I won't let you."

Lily Evans' stubborn streak was legendary, and had been since the age of eleven, when she'd infamously body-bound James and Sirius to prevent them from sneaking out of the Gryffindor common room after dark.

But if Lily was known for her stubborn streak, James was known for his persistence, and there was a wealth of precedent to suggest who would win their battle of wills. James gritted his teeth.

"I'm not arguing about this!" he responded hotly. "Whoever is responsible for this sick display of Christmas spirit deserves what's coming to him!"

He eyed the bottles of alcohol thoughtfully, but the possibility of his getting away with cracking her over the head with one was very slim, and besides, then he'd have to Apparate her out himself, which means he was forced to leave, too. So, stunning was also not an option.

Lily frowned, crossing her arms. "I'm not leaving."

"_Yes_, you are."

There was an almighty crack, but this time, it wasn't the result of an Apparation. Lily and James scrambled to safety, wild eyed, as the great chimney crumbled before their eyes, smashing into the bar. They were pressed against the far wall now, a thin barrier of rubble between them and the rapidly spreading fire. Without particularly thinking, his hand grasped hers' for comfort, and Lily was obviously about to capitalize on his absentmindedness and side-along-side Apparate away with him when a figure emerged through the smoke, from the hole where the chimney had been.

It was all James could do to keep his grip on his wand with one hand and Lily's with the other, and not to fling them both aside and throw himself at Severus Snape.

For his part, Lily's childhood playmate looked surprised.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, sounding strangled, his eyes, as always, for Lily only.

"Go!"

Lily opened and closed her mouth in shock. James, on the other hand, could not help but laugh. His hand grasped Lily's so tightly she was sure she could feel the bones of her fingers straining under great pressure.

"Snape the Martyr, is it, now?" James challenged him, mockingly.

Snape lowered his wand. "I don't want to kill you, Potter," he threatened quietly.

Lily's eyes flashed between the two men. James hoped she knew him well enough to understand that even he wouldn't strike his greatest enemy down in cold-blood.

"Severus is right, James. We're going, now, whether you like it or not."

She spoke with her usual, stubborn conviction, and James had barely a moment to roll his eyes before she turned on the spot, dragging the him with her. A second before they vanished, James saw Snape throw his wand aside angrily.

* * *

_"And you think you're in love with him!" Severus Snape hissed, appalled._

_Lily shook her arm from his grip, furious. Snape quailed under that look, desperate and bitter as he recognized a passion that she'd never possess for him__. _

_"__I don't think__, Sev. I _am_. You're too late. Now leave me be, I have to study for the exams."_

_Snape stepped back reluctantly, allowing her to pass. He caught her intoxicating scent from the toss of her hair, the sweet perfume lingering in his thoughts, keeping company with the secret kiss he so wanted to bestow upon her – but he knew, now, that he'd never have the courage._

_"__Lily!"_

_She paused, turning as she heard her name on his lips. _

_"__It's a mistake," Snape croaked harshly. "It's a mistake, and you know it, and you know what, Lily Evans? When everything fails, I won't be around to catch you."_

_What a lie. Snape's eyes darted downwards, unable to meet her fury. To cause her pain – to make her ache as much as he was aching now, to have some sort of common ground – that was acceptable, somehow. But anger? She'd never forgive him, he knew that with a sinking sort of horror:_

_What had he done?_

_It was a mistake: everything was a mistake. How had this happened? They were scarce months from graduating – just a few more months, and she'd never have seen Potter again, and none of this nonsense would have occurred, and he would have had her all to himself – _

Fate didn't always play kindly_, Snape concluded bitterly, turning his heel and sweeping from the library without so much as a backward glance. _One day, things would be different.

* * *

The Hog's Head was, compared to the burning building, wide and spacious and airy (although Lily knew this was, in actual fact, rather contrary to the truth). The filthy, cobble-stone floor was blackened with age and use, the wooden bar had developed a grease-slick sort of sheen and the windows were so grimy that Lily wondered briefly why they had even bothered with the patchy, moth-eaten black-out curtains.

The rough wooden tables and their rickety chairs were stacked against one wall, presumably to make space for cleaning, although it was very much doubtful whether this had ever been the case.

Body stiff with surprise, James glared down at her with half-hearted frustration; she refused to quake, clearly determined in her knowledge she'd done the right thing. James sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching with affection, ruefully surrendering.

"And about bloody time, too, I should think," Sirius interrupted their silence exchange to scold them both. James found himself being steered into a chair.

The tavern was empty, now, save for a collection of witches and wizards, mainly comprising of James and Lily's dinner guests, huddled around the fire with Dumbledore, his brother and McGonagall.

"Left it just long enough to give me a thorough fright, naturally," Sirius continued, gesturing wildly, his eyes ablaze with frustration. "Prongs, you _knew_ I wouldn't be able to Apparate back to help you, and _Merlin!"_

James shrugged hopelessly, unable to offer Sirius a rational explanation. His best friend was clearly determined to make a scene, and for once James couldn't be bothered to stop him.

Lily knelt beside him. "It was Snape," she told Sirius quietly. "He came through the smoke at us, and it was all I could do to stop James attacking him and…" she shrugged apologetically, her soot-streaked face tender.

In a rush of frustration, James gritted his teeth. "You should have let me fight him," he muttered, turning away from her. It was easier to be angry when he didn't have to meet her eyes.

"Well forgive me for saving your life, my love," she muttered, raising a hand to brush his cheek. Her fingers came away sooty and she laughed suddenly; James couldn't help but feel his anger melt away again, disappearing as quickly as it had risen. He raised a hand to her own blackened cheek, grinning.

"You're a mess."

He had a hankerchief somewhere; James turned out his pockets absent-mindedly. Something fell to the floor with a soft thump. Funny, he hadn't been carrying anything –

In that instant, James stiffened and Sirius, who knew exactly what the little velvet box was, darted forward.

"No!"

But Lily was faster; she plucked the little green box from the grimy floorboards, eyeing it inquisitively.

James sighed. "Lily, please –"

She flashed him a puzzled look, and James held his breath, hand beckoning hopefully - but it was too late, and Lily had already flicked the lid of the box upward. Her head jerked up at once in surprise, and she met James' resigned expression searchingly.

Sirius hid his face in his hands.

"James, what is this?"

Even though all three of them knew, so very well, that Lily knew _exactly_ what that box and its contents happened to mean, no-one seemed ready to volunteer any answers; in fact, out of the corner of his eye James could see Sirius was backing away, very slowly. The talk had stalled at the fireside, now, and the speakers, too, turned their attention to the little tableau unfolding before them.

James ran a hand through his sooty hair, all thoughts of Muggles and wizards-gone-bad and fires and attacking Severus Snape vanishing from his mind as he shook his head ruefully.

"You just _had_ to open it, didn't you?" he murmured, sighing. He accepted now what seemed inevitable. Lily had always, often quite innocently, been a foil to his plans, and this occasion was proving to be no different. "No time like the present though, I suppose, eh Padfoot?"

Sirius started to laugh quietly, shoulders shaking as he shrugged hopelessly. Remus and Peter moved forward to join him, expressions carefully blank. "Probably not, Prongs."

James smiled then, and nodded. His eyes drifted about the room, taking in the grimy bar, the shabby furniture, the audience. Lily. Her eyes shone brightly, the hand clasping the little velvet box shaking unconsciously. Grasping her fingers gently, he slid it from her hold.

Then, much to almost everyone's surprise, he dropped to one knee.

* * *

"_What are you crying about?"_

_The window was cold against Lily Evans' forehead. Rain smattered down the reverse side of the glass, and the compartment rocked with the steady rhythm the train had picked up as it hurtled, full speed, toward her mysterious new school. _

_A boy had broken away from the group, settling himself across from her, and he peered at her, curiously. Certainly, it was obvious that he thought her tears were absurd. For a moment, Lily had taken him for Severus, but now… though his hair was black, it was infinitely untidier, and he sported a pair of round-rimmed black glasses. _

"_Why do you care?" she challenged in reply. _

_The boy rolled his eyes. "Because it's not normal to be crying. We're off to Hogwarts, for Merlin's sake!"_

_Lily sniffed. "I'm not normal," she responded sulkily. "None of us are. If we were, we wouldn't be going in the first place! Besides, I can cry if I like."_

_The boy appraised her more closely, now, his eyes bright with interest. _

"_So you're a Muggle-born, then?"_

_Lily nodded, turning back to the window and hiding her face behind her hair. "Just leave me alone, please."_

_The boy frowned. "What if I don't want to?"_

_But Lily offered no further response. Sometimes, her mother had taught her, silence was the best way to treat persistent people. Certainly, talk only encouraged them. _

The boy eventually tired of her, and moved away, out of her line of vision, returning, instead, to the other boys. Moments later, she heard a shout of laughter.

_Lily closed her eyes, savouring the warm, wet trickle on her cheeks. At least _that_ feeling wasn't so unfamiliar._

* * *

The room had plunged rather abruptly into exactly the awkward sort of silence that James had been most anxious to avoid. It was, to be precise, the singular reason why he'd wanted to do this in private.

"I was going to wait, but…" James gestured to the open box in her hands, laughter in his eyes. She blinked back, face unreadable but for the small quiver at the corner of her lips.

"You always did get the best of me, Lily. And I know that's not much, but it's all I have to offer anyway, so… Do - Would you like to… would you want to… uh - marry me?"

Lily gazed down at him, unseeingly, and it seemed clear to James that she was having some sort of revelation. This seemed fair; after all, he rather thought he was having one himself. He'd known this was coming, the moment that little box had fallen from his pocket. They'd only just escaped a vicious attack with their lives, and he understood in retrospect that while Snape probably wouldn't have killed them if he was honest enough to say so, surely there had been others as well, just waiting beyond that curtain of smoke, wands poised. He'd always known – well, it seemed like always, anyway – that for him, she was It, but he'd never been more certain of that than in those scarce few minutes they'd spent huddled together in the smoky family home. Strangely, it didn't scare him at all.

He knew they were so young, probably too young, for him to be asking her yet - and yet here they were, and beyond any sort of trepidation James felt, there was one thing he was certain of: spending the rest of his life with this girl felt _right_.

And Merlin's beard, it looked like she was actually _considering_ him, even though he'd managed to mess up the proposal. James knew (and knew _she _knew) with resignation that he couldn't do romantic if he tried, but strangely this seemed all right, that he was an eternally bumbling fool for her… and just maybe she was just a bit of a fool for him too, sometimes. James couldn't help but smile, then. If that were the case, and they were both fools, then so be it. After all, the world always needed more love in it, no matter how impulsive and stupid it was.

Lily blinked again, and surrendered to the quivering smile that threatened to engulf her face.

"Always get the best of you, eh?" she echoed vaguely. James rose to his feet uncertainly, gripping the poor little box slightly tighter than he needed to. He didn't even notice he was holding his breath.

"Yes, of course, I'd love to James. How could my answer be anything dif-?"

The little box went flying in James' haste to pick her up, spinning her around and around as he kissed her, laughing.

He'd been pretty certain of her answer – of course he had been, because it was a rare thing for James to ask a question without already knowing the answer – but to hear her affirm her love for him, well, that was something to celebrate.

Sirius caught the airborne box with the precision of a former Quidditch great, exchanging a glance with Remus, who smiled.

"Merry Christmas," he offered weakly.

Peter slipped between them, slinging an arm over each of their shoulders, his round, boyish face split with an addictive grin. It seemed that everyone had caught the young couple's infectious happiness. Remus wished only that they could bottle the emotion, because such joy was too scarce, these days. He committed the moment, their smiles, and the gentle welling of satisfaction he felt inside himself, to memory. Somehow, he figured he'd need it later.

"Well, lads," Peter murmured dryly. "Hands up who saw _that_ one coming today?"

Remus chuckled. "Perhaps under different circumstances, Wormy, but no, I think-"

Fighting a grin, James finished kissing Lily and glanced up. The room suddenly seemed very bright, and with all eyes fixed on him James couldn't help but feel slightly dazed. Scanning his friends' faces, he met Peter's eye and couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed by his infectious grin.

Remus looked thoughtful, and _Sirius_ …

Sirius lifted his eyebrows, grinning and ducking his head, as though to remind James of-

"James – James, are you all right?"

James glanced back to Lily, feeling slightly overwhelmed and … empty handed. _Oh hell_.

"Where's the bloody box?" he asked, half laughing, half anxious, as he gazed about the floor. "I think I dropped it."

He half expected Lily to slip out of his embrace now, for her to throw up her hands and pronounce herself rid of his hopelessness before it was too late. Instead, he felt her draw closer, her body shaking with laughter. James tightened his hold, momentarily giddy with delight. Characteristically, he'd messed up once again, but this didn't seem to matter, now.

Sirius returned the box with a knowing smile, and Lily giggled hopelessly. She appeared quite giddy herself, as though only his arm around her was holding her upright; and James supposed that after all the spinning, perhaps this was fair enough.

James plucked the ring from its pillow, savouring the smoothness of the metal. Eyes fixed on her face and grinning like a moron, he gently slid it onto his new fiancé's hand.

Everyone turned, startled, to find Dumbledore applauding. Peter grinned, joining in.

"Three cheers for Lily and James!" he cried.

* * *

_"It's fairly hopeless, Prongs."_

_Sirius rubbed a hand over James' back in commiseration as his friend slumped back down onto the grass, the decisive whip of Lily Evans' hair as she had turned away from him still haunting his mind's eye._

"_Either she likes you or she doesn't, and I think Evans has made it pretty clear which way her affections fall, don't you think?"_

_Sirius had a good mind to go and tell Lily Evans exactly what she'd just done, except for the unfortunate truth he conscientiously neglected to remind James of: she simply didn't seem to care, for all that James insisted on persisting, based on the theory that she secretly did._

"_She doesn't understand," James murmured, fists clenched in frustration. _

_He wasn't as bad as Snivellus – James knew that to be a fact, with conviction, no matter what else she thought of him. _

_Remus settled next to him on the grass. The grounds were slowly clearing of students, now, but the Marauders had remained where they were, huddled beneath their favourite tree by the lake. _

"_James, if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. She'll come around, one way or another. Just – maybe be a little more patient and understanding?"_

_Sirius scoffed. "Moony you sap, you have to be joking. Prongs, I don't even know why you bother listening to this-"_

* * *

"And it's like I always said, Prongs-"

James accepted a mug of butterbeer from Sirius with a grateful smile. Apparently, proposing in a pub had its upsides. It was as though the engagement party had come to them, all packaged up and tied nicely with a ribbon, with absolutely zero effort on his part, which was only a bonus in his eyes.

Lily had vanished some minutes ago to find Emmeline, and as soon as she had disappeared from the immediate vicinity, James found himself swamped by friends.

He grinned, ruffling Sirius' hair. "Just like you always said," he agreed affectionately, adding as an afterthought – "Paddy, my good friend – you know how you _always said_…"

Sirius slapped him on the back, making him cough. His best mate's eyes glittered with pleasure.

"Of course I'll be best man, Prongs. You didn't even need to ask! So long as you don't want Moony, that is?"

Remus met James' eyes, startled, and shook his head awkwardly. Of course he'd have accepted if asked, but both James and Remus knew very well that Sirius had had the job from the moment Lily had kissed James. It was almost a rejection, to reaffirm that he wanted Sirius, now, and with abruptly sinking spirits, James suddenly wanted nothing more than to kick Sirius for putting him in such a position.

"It was always going to be you, Sirius. Step up and take responsibility for once in your mangy life," Peter joked uncomfortably.

The four friends studiously avoided each other's gazes for a moment. The strangest thing of all, James marveled, was that even though he was experiencing the strange need to punch something …. _Lily had said yes. _Unable to hold it in any longer, James' face broke once more into a broad grin of delight.

"I'm getting married!" he crowed, raising his mug. "To Lily Evans!"

The crowd, hearing his exclamation, set up a rumbling cheer, and in that moment Lily chose to catch his eye, blushing a lovely deep red with pleasure.

Sirius joined in the cheer, performing his signature wolf whistle.

"Who would have thought?" he yelled back, full of mirth, raising a knowing laugh.

Because really, if someone had told Sirius at fourteen that in four short years his friend would be engaged to the girl of his dreams, Sirius would have frog-marched them to Madam Pomfrey himself.

It was quite remarkable, he reflected, how quickly things could change…

* * *

_"I just don't understand this!" Lily growled with a quiet, desperate frustration. "I can do everything else, but this essay – I just can't concentrate – argh!"_

_Remus and Emmeline glanced up from their seats beside her. _

_Their customary study table, in the quietest corner of the library, was strewn with books and parchment. Most notably, however, was the gradual amassing of crumbled paper settling in the centre of the table. Lily had always been a perfectionist, but this was becoming ridiculous._

"_Perhaps you should talk to James?" Remus suggested cautiously, gesturing toward the Transfiguration textbook. "He's the best in the school, and there's no argument, there."_

_Lily gritted her teeth, tossing her hair out of her eyes. "I will _not_ be asking _anything_ of Potter, Remus. I don't need him, so don't even bother-"_

_Emmeline ducked her head, avoiding the inevitable argument. She had, she remembered hastily, a few books to return to the shelves…_

"_Lily, if you'd only-"_

_Lily's eyes flashed now. "I have a year 'til NEWTs, Remus, and Merlin help me if I exhaust every other resource in this school, James Potter is the _last_ person I'll ask for help, for _anything._"_

"_He's not as bad as you think, Lily. People rarely are." Remus smiled swiftly then. If she wouldn't ask, then perhaps he could ask on her behalf. "And what about me? Will you accept help from me, Lily?"_

_Lily's impassioned gaze flickered with surprise. "But of course, Remus! I'll always ask you, first."_

* * *

"I _would_ offer my congratulations," Dumbledore murmured quietly in James' ear. James startled, turning away from his circle of friends casually as another broad grin threatened to erupt across his face; Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with mild amusement. "However, I believe that would require some semblance of surprise on my part which, alas, I can't seem to muster."

"Well I'm glad _someone_ was feeling confident," James responded weakly, shaking his head.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows with a knowing smile. "Do you see any honest surprise in _their _faces, James? I think not."

Then suddenly, with no more than a jerk of his head toward the roaring fire, Dumbledore turned and walked away. James raised his own eyebrows, shrugging. Suddenly, something caught his eye; Remus, standing alone by the mantel. James checked his watch absently; it wasn't anywhere near the full moon, just as he'd thought…. And yet something clearly wasn't right. James frowned, a thought suddenly occurring to him –  
"Lily!"

"A long expected engagement," Dumbledore murmured quietly in Remus' ear. The young man jumped, surprised; so far as he had been aware, he had stood alone by the fire for quite some time, staring into its tumbling depths.

Remus smiled tenderly. "Yes – yes it has been," he agreed quietly, glancing up to meet Dumbledore's sparkling eyes.

His old Headmaster's look said it all: _don't worry – your friends will not forget you_.

Remus nodded curtly in agreement. He was being silly, he knew, but all the same, he couldn't shake the inexplicable feeling of being left behind.

James and Lily were re-emerging from Aberforth's back room sooner than he expected; understandably, they'd appeared anxious for some time to themselves...  
Remus and Dumbledore watched with calm interest as Lily gave James' hand a resolute squeeze before she turned and made her way towards the fire – towards them.

Dumbledore stepped forward, beaming. "I can't say how pleased I am for you, Lily," he murmured, squeezing her hand in pleasure. Eyes over bright, he subtly excused himself.

Remus gazed around the room, not seeing anything in particular. Lily moved to stand beside him, waiting patiently – she'd always been more patient than James. There was silence for a few moments as both of them searched for the right words.

"Remus?"

He glanced at her jerkily, smiling. Inclining his head towards hers, as though to offer a secret, he murmured, "I'm so very happy for you, Lily."

Lily smiled back, blissfully. "Thank you, Remus. Actually… actually, I have a favour to ask of you. James – James didn't want to say anything, before we'd asked you, but… we agreed, just then."

She nodded firmly, patting his hand as though to support her words. Remus was startled to see tiny tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and he straightened, suddenly more alert than he'd felt all day. _This_, whatever this was, was the last thing he'd expected.

"What is it, Lily?" he asked, voice low and urgent.

Lily bit her lip, drawing a deep, calm breath. "Well… my dad passed away a few months back, yeah? And… and, well, James and I were th-thinking, you know? Since he won't be around… would you do me the honour of… of walking me down the aisle, Remus? I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have."

Remus blushed suddenly, unable to meet her eyes once more. "Are you sure? I mean… it's always been a given that Sirius is best man, but all these plans – are you sure you're not rushing? And… me? I mean, people will talk…"

Lily clutched at his hands, turning him to face her frown. "Hey! James and I have discussed this before. It was always Sirius as best man, Peter for ring-bearer, and you… to give me away. Yeah? We haven't rushed. Remus, you're one of my oldest and dearest friends. Of course I'm sure – of course we're sure!"

Lily met his eyes searchingly, her gaze equally as fierce as it had been at sixteen. He remembered the first time they'd met, on the Hogwarts Express: the forthright young girl dragging the scruffy, oily-haired boy in her wake, effectively invading his compartment without so much as an apology; and then, later, her relief as he joined her at the Gryffindor table, after the Sorting. Their years of gentle, dependable friendship: it all boiled down to this.

"Yes, of course Lily. I'd love to."

Lily beamed, laughing with joy and excitement. She leaned up and kissed his cheek eagerly before turning to gaze around for her other half. Spotting his familiarly messy hair, she grabbed Remus' hand and towed him towards the huddle of young men.

"James! James, he said yes!"

James met Remus' eyes over the top of Lily's fiery hair and simply nodded, once, in thanks. A smile was in his eyes as he ushered them into the little group, and Benjy cheerfully handed Remus a glass of sparkling wine.

* * *

_"I'm never drinking again," Lily moaned, clutching her head between her hands._

"_Blame Sirius," James offered cheerfully, his remarkable ability of recovery from a wild night of alcohol-fueled philosophy almost painful to Lily's sight. "Besides – I really doubt you'll keep that promise, I'm afraid."_

_Lily struggled upright on the lounge, crossing her arms. "I _do_ blame Sirius. All his talk about the future is quite enough to inspire _anyone_ to the drink. And I won't drink again, not until you give me reason to, anyway, Potter."_

_James hid a smile: she was obviously recovering. "A good reason or a bad reason?" he inquired curiously. _

_Lily grinned, lifting her face up for a kiss. "Good, please. I don't want to have to hex you, now, do I?"_

_James rolled his eyes. "Of course not. And I'll look forward to it, Lily. You're an adorable drunk."_

_Lily blushed with pleasure and confusion. "I try my best."_

* * *

The key fumbled unsteadily in the lock. A strong, warm hand covered Lily's own, and she grinned weakly as James slid his arm around her.

"You've had too much to drink," James murmured, delighted, breath whispering past her ear. Behind them came the telltale click, momentary pause and then quiet thud of Sirius and Remus disappearing into Sirius' flat. James kissed her cheek, smiling. "You never have too much to drink anymore!"

Lily planted her hand on her hip, beaming giddily as she allowed James to guide the key, and her hand, more firmly. Door open, she turned to him, laughter in her eyes.

"Well, I don't often have something this important to ce-ce-celebrate, do I?" she whispered in reply, tugging him into the flat. She stumbled a bit, but James steadied her easily, arm around her waist.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her as he closed the door firmly behind him, sending a precautionary glance around their flat. Their meal was as it had been left – plates everywhere, food half eaten, serving dishes piled high, glasses half empty. James eyed it with regret, but he knew that proportionally, a spoiled Christmas dinner ranked fairly low on his list of grievances with the world, at least as it stood with all the Voldemort nonsense. Lily tugged at his hand, returning his attention to her with the precision of a stunning spell. Lily was never so adorable as when she'd been drinking, and tonight, and every night from now on, she was _his_. Inches from her lips, he paused, eyes widening. The room was a little blurry – Lily had just knocked his glasses askew with a clumsy hand to his cheek – but if he squinted and cocked his head to the side, he was pretty sure he could see-

James straightened very suddenly, and his free hand leapt to his head, fingers tangling in his unruly hair. Lily's eyes fluttered open once more and she frowned up at him, slowly comprehending a look of alarm.

"James? James, what's wrong?"

He swiftly straightened his glasses, although this seemed to do nothing to improve the situation unfolding before his eyes.

"Oh Merlin," James swore softly.

"James." Patricia Evans greeted him with a curt nod from the middle of his lounge room. Her expression darkened as she turned to regard her daughter. "Lily. Merry Christmas."

"Mum!" Lily cried, flying across the room in excitement. "You'll never guess – or maybe you will –" James winced as she dangled her left hand inches before her mother's face. "James proposed, Mum. We're getting married!"

* * *

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**Lexie**


	2. In Which Sirius is Insubordinate

**Disclaimer: All characters and settings borrowed from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I just play with her ideas.**

* * *

**2. In Which Sirius is Insubordinate  
**_Boxing Day_

"And then, I opened the door, because Lily was quite, you know… _gone_, and she couldn't manage it, and we stumble inside, because I was holding her up, you see… and the first thing that I find…"

James paused for dramatic effect, sipping from the steaming mug of tea that Remus had just set down before him, unable to prevent the ironic smirk spreading across his lips.

The tearoom attached to what was known as the Trainee Auror Offices (more commonly referred to as the Hole, because as far as James and Sirius were concerned, a collection of storage closets did not an office comprise) was a tiny, comfortably furnished room, although it wouldn't do to tell the full Aurors the latter. The only reason James and Sirius were able to sink comfortably into the old, shabbily cushioned dining table chairs was because the Aurors had thought the kindly donation beneath them. Sirius, however, was seriously contemplating exchanging his own dining suite for the mottled, stained and certainly pre-loved table and chairs, all of which had arrived in an advanced state of disrepair.

A narrow counter and cupboards ran along the one wall of the tearoom, boasting an assortment of old mugs and a cool-box, magically charmed to maintain a sub-degree temperature, where the trainees stored their lunches. Only moments before, Remus (who was not, in fact, a trainee) had helped himself to the bottle of milk contained there and earned himself a stern admonishment from the cool-box door.

Milk returned and tea mugs distributed, however, had seen the room once more fall into silence.

"_Yes_?" Remus prompted patiently, resting a hand to his cheek in an effort to support his throbbing head. Lily wasn't the only one who'd over-indulged last night, and Remus was most certainly feeling the worse for it.

"I find Lily's _mother_, who's dozed off on our lounge waiting for us to come home for Christmas _dinner_ – it's well into the early hours by this stage, remember – and the sound of the door's woken her up, and the first thing she sees is her daughter _drunk_, and Lily just grins and hurries over to her and shows her the ring, just like that, and I hadn't even had the chance to _ask for permission_ first, because Lily wasn't supposed to find the ring-"

"I told you keeping it in your pocket wasn't the best of ideas," Sirius drawled, smiling indulgently.

"- and so _she_ insists on putting Lily to bed, and in she goes to the room she _thinks_ Lily sleeps in – you know, the spare room? And Lily - I'm just standing in the lounge, and I hear _Lily_ laugh and say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, _No Mum, of course my pyjamas aren't in here, they're in James' room!_ And next thing, I have Mrs. Evans standing in the hallway eyeing me suspiciously, and bearing down on me – you know the way she breathes when she's cross, Moony? All heavy and that? _Furious_ – and she demands to know exactly what my intentions with her daughter are, and _where on earth have you been? I've been waiting for hours, and so worried! And you didn't even have the good grace to call, and,_ _James, I'm so disappointed in you. You can take me home, now. I'll talk to _my daughter_ in the morning_."

James shook his head, absently. "It was an absolute shambles, I tell you. And all I could do was stand there and stutter at her, and she just raised her eyebrows at me, the _I don't want to hear it, James Potter_ look that she has – very similar to Lily's _I can't believe you just did that, James, you idiot_ look, actually – and I had no choice but to Apparate her back to bloody _Surrey_ at three-o-clock in the morning… and then I get home, and Lily's vomiting in the bathroom…"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a wince at this last piece of information. One glance at their friend, however - who sat with his head in his hands, fingers tangled through his unruly hair, still talking to himself in an utterly mortified fashion - and Remus found he needed to cover his mouth with his hands lest James saw the wide grin that was spreading across it. Sirius, on the other hand, held no such scruples. In fact, he outright laughed.

"Well put it this way, Prongs – it'll make an excellent story for the kids, when you get around to _that_ – _Now come here, Sirius Junior_-"

"Who says I'm naming my kid _Sirius_?" James interrupted, appalled.

"- because Daddy wants to tell you about the night he proposed to Mummy, and the reason we don't see Grandma very often…"

Remus gave in to a quiet chuckle, shrugging apologetically as James glared at them.

"S'not funny," he grumbled, although it was hard to miss the quivering half-smile he was trying to suppress.

"Of course it's funny, Prongs," Sirius explained patiently, moving forward to take a seat at the table. "It's bloody hilarious, in fact, but I _can_ see how you'd be quite distressed, I suppose."

"Thanks, Padfoot, so generous of you."

James plucked off his glasses, rubbing his eyes vigorously. Perhaps, if he was lucky and rubbed them enough, he could rub away the image of a furious Mrs. Evans that seemed burned to his eyelids – a most terrifying sight, every time he blinked.

"And the worst of it is, I suppose, that now you have to make up missing Christmas dinner to Lily's mother, not to mention ask her for Lily's hand in marriage, right?"

James nodded dismally. "That's exactly it, Moony – have you been speaking to Lily behind my back again?" Remus shrugged apologetically, but James brushed it aside. "And I have no idea how I'm going to get myself back into her good books, now. It took her so long to approve after Lily moved in, and now…"

Mothers were all very well and good, and James missed his own mother fiercely, especially at times like this where she'd have been the one to laugh gently and offer him some advice – but he didn't really think it was fair that Mrs. Evans seemed to be blaming him for the state Lily had arrived home in last night, nor the impromptu nature of their engagement. After all, he'd had every intention of doing things properly – although the separate beds rule had been a bit of a stretch – and she _had_ to give him points for that, right?

"Flowers," Sirius said, suddenly, his face a studied expression of thoughtfulness.

"Flowers?" James repeated doubtfully. "Do you really think that buying Lily's mum _flowers_ is going to make things better, Padfoot?"

Sirius frowned, looking a little disheartened. "No I suppose not – but I put a lot of thought into that suggestion, Prongs!"

"If only you'd put so much effort into your work, Black," Alastor Moody growled from the doorway, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. "Perhaps if we send flowers to _Voldemort_ he'll stop killing people."

Remus grinned, standing hurriedly. "Have I kept you lot too long? Sorry, Moody. Was just on my way out."

Moody regarded him gruffly. "All right, Lupin?" he asked quietly.

Remus nodded. He liked Alastor Moody – the old Auror had been very kind to him when he'd first joined the Order, and Remus knew he'd argued for his admission to the Auror training program. "Times like these, we need every man with enough skill to keep hold of his wand in battle," he'd said, which was just about the kindest thing Remus had heard spoken on his behalf for quite a while.

James and Sirius watched Remus leave gloomily. Moody rolled his eyes. "Cheer up lads, or Crouch'll want to know why, I'm sure. Conference room, five minutes."

* * *

_"SIRIUS! ENOUGH!"_

_James and Peter skidded into the dungeon corridor, freezing abruptly as they caught sight of the tableau spread before them. Remus was ringing his hands anxiously, completely at a loss. His gaze caught James' gratefully, and Peter was fairly sure that his friend was actually sagging in relief. Sirius, too, had frozen – and from the looks of things, mid-incantation._

_Snape was dangling from the ceiling, upside down, his face a mess of blood. It dripped steadily from the tip of his nose, splattering feet below him on the flagstone floor. Even he seemed to regard James pleadingly. Peter hurried forward to sling a supporting arm around Remus._

_James merely crossed his arms, hazel eyes locked with Sirius in a determined battle of wills. Finally –_

_James sighed. "Padfoot, _what in Merlin's name were you thinking_?"_

_Sirius held his gaze proudly, jaw jutting out stubbornly. "He's scum, Prongs," he said quietly, with conviction. Even Snape paused to listen. "He's a nasty, filthy, lying Death Eater, and he deserves everything he has coming to him."_

_At that point, Sirius seemed to radiate pure anger. He finished the sweep of his wand, flicking it decisively toward the ceiling.  
All of a sudden, Snape plunged toward the floor._

_James raised his wand, but too late. Peter and Remus could only watch with horror as their nemesis hit the ground with a bone-shattering crunch. James just prayed it wasn't his spine._

_Hearing a moaning from the floor, Remus figured that Snape had survived the fall. That caused a surge of relief to course through his veins, because certainly Snape was scum, but no one deserved death. The look in Sirius' eyes – dark and merciless – shook Remus to his core. It was as though his friend had been lost, consumed by his burgeoning hatred…_

_"Stupefy!"_

_The movement on the floor ceased, as Severus Snape collapsed with a thud. James moved to Sirius swiftly, black school robes billowing behind him, and without much ado, thumped him across the back of the head._

_Sirius winced, having ducked too late._

_"What has gotten into you?" James hissed, fury etched across his face. "How can you be so stupid? And so cruel? I'm…. I'm…."_

_"Disgusted?" Sirius offered quietly. The darkness had somewhat dissipated from his eyes, and he gazed around the corridor, as though dazed._

_"That," James nodded. "Disappointed. Horrified. Furious. There are a few more, actually, but I don't really care to go into great detail, as I'm sure you can appreciate."_

_Sirius shook his head suddenly, as if gathering his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Prongs," he said suddenly. "I don't know what came over me… I just…. Lost control, I guess…When he said…"_

_James shook his head. "You know what? I don't want to know. I just don't want to know, Padfoot. Not this time." He sounded exhausted._

_Sirius opened his mouth to argue before appearing to change his mind. James could have sworn he heard him mumble something to do with Lily, though._

_"If we tell, you'll be expelled."_

_Remus' voice appeared from the shadows, suddenly. James and Sirius exchanged a glance, the latter feeling suddenly nauseous._

_Suddenly, James straightened resolutely and pointed his wand at Snape._

_"Wingardium Leviosa," he muttered, making sure the crumpled heap was lifted with nothing but the gentlest of spells._

_Sirius, Remus and Peter waited, for James seemed to have come to a decision._

_He sighed. "As Head Boy, I should really report this, Padfoot…."_

_Sirius was going to throw up, he just knew it-_

_"… but we've come so close. I can't have you expelled three weeks before we graduate. I think… we'll just have to keep this to ourselves, all right?"_

_Remus and Peter exchanged a short nod. Remus rubbed his hands. "Right," he agreed. "Now let's get this mess cleared up…"_

* * *

Lily had had a very pleasant morning. She'd awoken, naked, in the spare room, and she had a rather nasty feeling her mother had been in the flat last night - _why else would she be in here, otherwise? _(Although it really didn't explain the lack of clothing) – but her sheets felt warm and luxurious, and when she attempted to sit up she was pleasantly surprised to find her head wasn't pounding.

While attempting this last maneuvre, something else had happened: her left hand had snagged at the sheets.

Lily withdrew it now, a wide, dreamy smile spreading unbidden across her face. The engagement ring glittered in the bright sunlight filtering through her curtains, and –

_Bright sunlight_?

Lily paused, frowning. It must be later than she'd thought.

She rose, finding her clothing strewn across the bedroom floor. The flat was silent: James had probably already left for work. Gathering the dirty clothes into a tight ball, she made a quick dash across the hall – one never knew when Sirius might pop in, after all – and disappeared swiftly into the bedroom she normally shared with James, closing the door behind her.

The ball of clothes set down in the doorway, she strode to the wardrobe and threw the doors open, ponderously. Today was the beginning of the rest of her life, so to speak, and since she was feeling particularly fabulous, it made sense that she'd dress in style. After all, now she was someone's _fiancée_. Even better, she was James Potter's _fiancée_, and he was hers.

Nothing, Lily decided – not even the revolting mess of their flat, with the remnants of their dinner party now starting to smell slightly – was going to ruin her mood.

Half an hour later, Lily was seriously considering revising her resolution.

The kitchen was still knee deep in dirty cooking equipment, and although the dining table now shone, she had a rather large stack of dinner plates and serving platters to add to the overall devastation. Even as she watched, the stack of dirty dishes began to waver dangerously. She swiftly stabilized the quaking tower, clutching a hand to her head.

She wasn't venturing in _there_ alone, not after James' summoning charm incident earlier in the year. She turned distractedly, promising herself she'd return to the kitchen problem later.

Perhaps they could eat at Sirius' tonight?

Three bags of rubbish stood by the door of the flat, and Lily didn't even want to _think_ about the disarray of wrapping paper and forgotten gifts that were thrown across the lounge room floor.

She decided, instead, to begin with the bedrooms. The spare room wasn't so bad. The bed was unmade, but she had cleaned up the clothes earlier, and all that was left was a lingering smell of…. _Vomit?_

Deciding she didn't really want to know, Lily flicked her new copy of _The Modern Witch's Guide to Easy Living_ open to the page on cleaning spells and waved her wand efficiently.

At once, the pink sheets and flowery quilt saw fit to lift themselves into the air and spread neatly over the bed. The edges tucked themselves in tidily, and the pillows plumped themselves.

Pulling back the flimsy lace curtains, Lily flung the window wide open, inhaling with relief as fresh air swept past her and into the musty room.

Leaving the door open, she hurried into the main bedroom. A swish of her wand saw the abandoned clothes adorning the floor – James had a habit of leaving things exactly where he'd stepped out of them – rise gently into the air and drift toward the clothesbasket in the corner. She'd wash them later.

Repeating the spell, she watched once more with satisfaction as the bed made itself. The wardrobe doors slid closed tidily, and once again she pushed back the heavier, more practical curtains and opened the window.

There was a knock at the door. Checking her wristwatch, Lily saw it was almost lunchtime. Hopefully, that was James home, his hands too full of food or papers to open the door himself.

Abandoning her cleaning spree, Lily twirled the ring on her finger affectionately and hurried toward the door.

"Remus!"

Remus, sandy haired and honey eyed, smiled apologetically, lifting a brown paper bag cheerfully.

"James and Sirius are in a meeting with Crouch," he explained. "I figured you might like some help tidying. I brought lunch, too, for when we're finished."

Lily beamed, trying not to sag in relief too much. It was all very well being the fiancée and everything, but she wasn't so sure she liked the whole Domestic Goddess title, as much as she adored Charms. Something in the back of Lily's mind told her sternly that James should probably be home helping too.

"Thanks Remus," she murmured gratefully, standing back to let him inside.

Remus appraised the room thoughtfully. "You've done well!" he told her cheerfully, setting the bag down on the dining table.

Lily laughed. "That was easy. The kitchen looks as though someone's-"

"It looks as though Sirius has been let loose with dinner," Remus finished for her, peering inside and grimacing.

Lily nodded, hanging her head. "It's disgusting, I know. I've been putting it off." And knowing what happened when she put things off, Lily was fully ready to bet the washing up would have been left until she had returned from her intern-shift at the hospital, too…

At least, she supposed, James would have been home to help, then.

Remus grinned. The Lily he knew wasn't the sort to clean up after anyone but herself, and it seemed some things never changed. He'd always intended to help her with the cleaning after their meal, but a certain emergency had called them all away at a critical time, which was really no-one's fault. Ideally, there should have been about five of them cleaning and drying and putting away, proportionate to the mess.

He unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves briskly. "May as well get started, then, hey," he suggested kindly. "The sooner we do, the sooner we eat."

* * *

_Lily slipped an arm around Sirius' shoulder, comfortingly. He was shaking uncontrollably, cradling his broken left arm on his lap._

"_I'm… I…. Can't – Regulus?" he managed, speech broken as he tried to grapple with the aftermath of his first attack. _

_James and Remus were some yards away, by the fire. They were speaking in low, urgent whispers with Dumbledore and Fabian Prewett. _

"_Here, little cousin – drink this."_

_Lily's gaze snapped back to the woman handing Sirius a chipped, battered mug of steaming potion, and jumped, hand unconsciously going to her pocket-_

_Andromeda Tonks didn't even wince, so used to being mistaken for her older sister. Instead, she gently extended Sirius' arm and set her wand to it, her face the picture of pure concentration._

_Ironically, it was Sirius who rested a calming hand on Lily's wand arm. _

"_Relax," he breathed between sips, smiling at his cousin in the flickering firelight. "Lily, I don't think you've met my cousin Andromeda? She's a defector, too."_

_The Defector badge, Lily knew well, was one that Sirius wore with pride. For him to share it spoke volumes of respect for his cousin._

_He grinned then, as the potion kicked in. "God you're good, Dromeda."_

_Andromeda smiled. "Not even broken," she teased, rolling her eyes. "I think it was just jarred." She turned her heavily lidded eyes toward Lily, measuringly. "You're Lily Evans, right? I've seen you around St Mungos…"_

_Lily ducked her head, embarrassed to mistake her for her sister. Andromeda rested back on her heels now, face illuminated by the fire. She looked very alike her sister – but there were subtle differences, now that she cared to look. Her hair and eyes were lighter in colour, her expression kinder. Now that she thought about it, Sirius had spoken of this cousin more than once, and with great fondness. If she remembered correctly, Andromeda had even married a Muggle. _

"_Yes, I'm Lily," she agreed quietly, apologetic. "I've heard so much about you, from-"_

_Andromeda cut her off with a grimace, cuffing Sirius across the back of the head. "What have you been saying about me now, Black?" she mocked, grinning. "I'd stay away if I were you, Lily Evans. This boy's nothing but trouble, and I should know…"_

* * *

Alastor Moody had been an Auror for a very long time; he'd been Head of the Auror Training Program for fifteen years, and had at least thirty years experience through the ranks before that. In all his time in the Auror's office, Moody would have thought he'd seen everything.

After all, he'd been there for the legendary battle between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, and if _that_ wasn't the definitive magical battle of this century, Moody would eat his own nose.

Over the course of his lengthy experience, Moody had also developed several tenants of station, the foremost being 'constant vigilance', closely followed by 'expect everything, suspect everyone.'

His inclination to trust experience, however, did nothing to stem his current disbelief.

"So you're saying," James Potter stood up, an expression of polite confusion carefully configured across his face, "that we're allowed to _kill_ now?"

Crouch nodded stiffly. He was, as ever, impeccable and supremely impractical. "That is exactly what I'm saying, er…."

"Potter," the young man supplied helpfully. "James Potter."

Crouch raised his carefully combed eyebrows, impressed. The Potter name commanded respect, regardless of the boy's inferior rank.

"Well," said Crouch. "Yes, Potter – as I was saying, you are ordered to kill if capture is impossible. _No one escapes, _do you understand me? We've lost too many good witches and wizards in the field recently to merit any less than an act of iron-fisted opposition to this mess."

To both Crouch and Moody's surprise, Potter remained standing.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Crouch," Potter said, his expression changing to that of disbelief. In fact, Moody almost mistook the expression as belonging to his _own_. "You're issuing license to trainee-aurors to kill potential suspects _without so much as a warning?_"

Crouch nodded, his patience clearly waning. "Justice is swift, Mr. Potter. Which brings me to my next piece of news-"

"But that isn't justice!"

Moody closed his eyes, suppressing his overwhelming urge to smack Sirius Black in the back of the head. It was well known that Potter and Black were best friends, and he couldn't fault them as combat partners, but if he was to choose a spokesperson for the pair it certainly would have been Potter, who was inarguably more diplomatic.

"_What_ isn't justice, Mr. Black?"

Black straightened, drawing himself up to a height considerably above that of Mr. Crouch.

"Killing people – people who haven't been to trial – if we don't know whether they're innocent or guilty – so really, killing indiscriminately - that's not justice, Mr. Crouch. That's _barbaric. _Aurors don't kill people. How does that make us any better than the Other Lot?"

Crouch all but snarled. Moody hid a smile as he watched his boss collect himself.

"_Sit_," he hissed between gritted teeth, voice dangerously low. "You're fortunate I don't have you dismissed for your insubordination, Mr. Black." Crouch clearly needed no prompting as to who _Sirius_ was. "That goes for you too, Potter. As it is, I can't afford to lose two _more_ Aurors today. "

"Pardon me, Mr. Crouch – but we aren't Aurors. We're only trainees."

At least, Moody sighed, Fenwick had had the good sense to raise his hand.

Crouch inclined his head, glaring around the table impressively. "Wizards – witches," he added, catching sight of three women seated toward the back of the table. "In the current climate, we are faced with one of two choices. Kill or _be killed_. Azkaban is rapidly reaching capacity and we cannot afford to take prisoners _unless necessary_. That said, you are under orders only to kill when necessary. I regard your safety as an utmost necessity. Do you understand me?"

The collection of trainees nodded dolefully, cowed by Crouch's display of impressiveness. It was plain, however, that not everyone assented.

Potter and Black were talking in low, even whispers. Potter's face was carefully blank, but his eyes were glittering almost as dangerously as Black's. They'd clearly already worked out Crouch's second piece of news. With resignation, Moody reached for his wand as Black stood once again, his face the picture of disgust. Moody restrained himself at the last moment, as it occurred to him what Black had to say would, at least, be interesting.

Crouch continued on, oblivious. "This brings me to my next point, wizards – and witches-" Crouch drew a rather longer breath than necessary, as though the pause would make his information somehow more exciting. It was an error on Crouch's part which gave Black the space he needed to interrupt once more.

"You can't _do_ that," he bleated plaintively, locking eyes with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "We've been in training _nine months_, sir. We've seen action _twice_, and that was under the strictest of supervision. We've never engaged an opponent, sir_. _We're only half way through the course! We're not ready to be put in the field –"

Out of the corner of Moody's eye, he saw Potter kick him sharply. Black finished, head bowed slightly.

"- meaning no disrespect, of course, sir, but I'd rather prefer to live through my first battle."

The look on Black's face was one of the clearest contradictions Moody had ever witnessed. The trainee had clearly intended _every_ disrespect. Moody settled back against the wall once more, a strange welling of satisfaction giving him cause for thought.

If it came down to it, Moody decided there and then that he was with his boys. A massive oversight on Crouch's part, no doubt - but he couldn't fault Black's honesty. As much as he liked the boys – and he did in fact enjoy their company immensely, being as they were infinitely more interesting than his more contemporary, battle-worn colleagues – he wouldn't want his life placed in their hands anytime soon.

Not for another nine months, in fact.

* * *

_He waited eagerly, leaning in some nondescript doorway of Diagon Alley. He supposed it led to one of the upstairs flats that were not uncommon in the upper stories of the street's shops, but this was only a fleeting thought. His real concern was currently loitering by the cashier in Flourish and Blott's._

_She was on the move._

_As her small party crossed the shop's threshold, James launched himself from the doorstep, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked swiftly and nonchalantly toward them, looking everywhere but at them._

_And then, very deliberately, he ran into her._

Thud.

_James fixed a startled expression upon his face and immediately knelt to retrieve the books spilling from the dropped shopping bag, repeating the sincerest apology ever to leave his lips._

_"My goodness, I'm so very sorry, all my fault, I should have been looking where I was going, I'm so sorry-"_

_He'd never heard such a mess of pompous nonsense in all of his life, but if this worked – and James hoped with all of his heart that it would – then a bit of pomposity was worth it._

_A pair of small, pale hands reached down to snatch away the small pile of books he had amassed. Behind him, James heard a sharp intake of breath._

_He glanced up now, standing jerkily and hoping he looked suitably surprised._

_"Evans!" he exclaimed, smiling broadly. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see-"_

_Lily clutched the books to her chest, nose in the air. "Shut it, Potter," she interrupted abruptly._

_From behind him, a voice uttered 'Lily!' in what could only be described as shock. James supposed the voice belonged to the gasper._

_He turned now, smiling pleasantly, to find out._

_"And you must be Lily's parents!" he exclaimed politely, extending a hand and smiling pleasantly._

_Mr. Evans shook it vigorously as James continued. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you both. Lily," he murmured, turning back to the scowling fourteen year old girl, "you didn't tell me you looked like your mother! She's clearly inherited your beauty, ma'am."_

_Mrs. Evans chuckled and blushed. "Nonsense," she murmured, pleased. "It's absolutely delightful to finally meet a friend of our daughter's – er… what did you say your name was, I beg your pardon?"_

_James grinned. "Where are your manners, Lily?" he chided her jokingly. "James Potter, ma'am, sir."_

_Mrs. Evans smiled gracefully, although her eyes chastised her child. "Delightful, James."_

_Mr. Evans, whose view of Lily was blocked by James, tapped his chin thoughtfully, still flexing the hand James had shaken. The boy had a good, firm, handshake. If there was one thing that Mr. Evans approved of, it was a good, firm handshake._

_"We were just about to take lunch, James," he said, continuing quickly before James mistook this as a dismissal. "We'd be delighted for you to join us."_

_He glanced sideways at his wife, who nodded enthusiastically._

_James beamed, careful not to look at Lily. "Why thank you very much, sir – if that's not too much trouble, I'd be delighted to."_

_Mrs. Evans smiled again, watching her daughter curiously. In fact, she had made the acquaintance of another of Lily's friends – that Snape boy that Petunia particularly detested – and she could firmly say, there and then, that she'd take this young James Potter in preference any day. James clearly had charisma. Relieved, she nodded._

_"Trouble? Nonsense, James, we'd be glad for you to join us, wouldn't we, Lily?"_

_Behind him, Lily emitted a muffled noise of what could only be taken as dissent, but James pretended not to hear. He was already walking, side-by-side with Mr. Evans toward the Leaky Cauldron._

_Lily's heart sank even further as she caught a snatch of their conversation on the slight breeze: "Why, yes, sir, my family's all magical. I must say, getting to know your daughter has certainly been educational."_

_Lily had never seen her father stand so straight and proud._

_As her mother clutched at her arm, clucking about how charming Potter seemed, Lily was quite sure she was going to be sick._

* * *

The door was a fetching shade of burgundy, and did nothing to chase James' nerves away. Crossing the fingers of his free hand behind his back and reminding himself that his day possibly couldn't get worse, James knocked and stepped back.

Lily's childhood home was a charming example of Muggle nonsense. Brown-red bricks, two stories, with a front yard hemmed with a smart burgundy picket fence (to match the door), James forced himself not to laugh at the silly, painted statues of little bearded men scattered beneath Mrs. Evans' choicest plants.

Even as James struggled to wipe the grin off his face, Mrs. Evans happened to open the door. She saw his expression, and startled. He looked nothing short of pained.

"James! Come in, come in," she murmured hurriedly, ushering him over the threshold.

James entered obediently and slipped off his shoes. They were muddy, from his training run that morning, and it wouldn't do to walk mud across his prospective mother-in-law's carpet.

Feeling rather like an unfortunate livestock, James found himself directed to the lounge room. He chose the lounge, leaving Mr. Evan's old armchair empty as a sign of respect.

Lily's mother perched beside him, eyeing him beadily.

"I trust my daughter has recovered?" she murmured, lips pursed.

James ducked his head and nodded. "Yes, ma'am – she has."

Lily had still been asleep when he'd left that morning, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he left (certainly not the way he'd planned to spend the night of his engagement) but Moony had said he was going to stop in on his way home, and Remus would have contacted him if there was anything to worry about.

James' more immediate concern was, in fact, worming his way back into Mrs. Evan's good graces.

He steeled himself, admonishing his nerves sternly.

You won them at fourteen, he reminded himself. You can do it again.

He cleared his throat.

"I – er – wanted to apologise for last night. Firstly, for not letting you know we weren't going to be at the flat, and secondly for not asking your permission for – er- "

James decided that the best thing was probably to plow on – so on he went.

"Thing is, Mrs. Evans, we were called away from our Christmas Lunch because some –er – bad wizards attacked a Mu- non-magical house, and we went to protect them, you see, because that's what my job is, and Lily came in case any of us were injured since that's what her job is, and – er-"

It occurred to James that explaining things so simply to Mrs. Evans might be taken as an insult to her intelligence, but explaining magical things to Muggles had never been easy, and anyway, he'd made such a ham of himself last night that whatever he said now could only improve the matter, couldn't it?

"Well, then we regrouped, and ummm…. I had soot on my face, because the house had been burning, and as I looked in my pocket for a handkerchief – er- " He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, well aware that he'd never felt so sheepish in his life. "Well, the engagement ring I'd bought fell out of my pocket, ma'am, and Lily picked it up, and after that proposing seemed to be thing to do and uh…"

This was, perhaps, the most disconcerting thing of all, because Mrs. Evans appeared to be laughing.

James' muddled explanation stopped abruptly, and so did Mrs. Evans' laughter.

"Were the people you rescued all right?" she asked suddenly, frowning.

James nodded, relieved at being offered such an easy question. "Yes, they're all right, ma'am. I mean, the house was completely destroyed, but … but other than that, I suppose they're all right. They've been looked after."

Mrs. Evan nodded, satisfied.

Then, she smiled. "James, I can't say how pleased I am that you've proposed to Lily."

At this point, Lord Voldemort himself could have knocked James down with a twig.

He gazed at Lily's mother, dumbstruck. "Y-you are? But – I… ? Last night?"

Mrs. Evans frowned, then. "James – you're an only child, aren't you, love?"

James nodded quickly.

"James, let me explain something to you about mothers and daughters. All mothers are extremely worried about their children, especially when they aren't where they're supposed to be, but – when they stumble through the door drunk some hours later, James, we're not going to be very pleased. Girls – young ladies - are supposed to know better, you know," she added as an afterthought.

"And, before you bring it up – no, I really didn't expect for you two to be sleeping in separate rooms, to be honest, but mothers also like to think of their daughters as little girls, and little girls just don't share beds with men, I suppose – but enough of that," she finished, because James' cheeks were turning steadily darker, and the last thing she wanted to do was to scare him away, the poor dear. She'd probably given him enough of a fright last night, after all...

Mrs. Evans leaned forward toward him now, smiling dreamily. "James, do tell me how you proposed, if you don't mind?"

James grinned then, his whole body sagging with relief. The conversation was, undoubtedly, one of the strangest he'd ever experienced – and that was saying a lot when you appreciated that he'd lived with Sirius for seven years. But – possibly because of Sirius – James was well equipped for strange conversations.

He shook his head ruefully. "Well – to be honest, I stammered a lot, and then I – uh – well, she said yes, and then I think I threw the box and ring away-"

Mrs. Evans' eyes widened.

* * *

_He'd known something was up as soon as he'd seen her face, hurrying straight past him, unseeingly, on toward the castle doors. He'd known something big was up as soon as he'd seen Potter hurrying after her. And, after that, Severus Snape saw fit to join the strange procession out into the snow. The liar in him said it was because he had nothing better to do._

_He crept down the slope after them, hurriedly concealing himself behind a tree as Potter turned casually, scanning the area for her. Severus didn't need to scan. She was there, on the rock by the lake, the snow ablaze around her head like a halo._

_Potter spotted her too, because he resumed his hurried pace at the same instant._

_Severus watched the hapless idiot stumble down the hill. The snow was at least a foot deep, and in his haste, Severus had rushed outside without a cloak. He shivered, eyes fixed shrewdly on the little figures by the lake. They seemed to be talking – he was sitting beside her, now –_

_Well, if they were only talking, he supposed begrudgingly that that was all right. He decided to stay, just to make sure._

_And – Potter was standing, and walking away from her, and then Lily stood too and seemed to yell something at him – Severus grinned, waiting for her wand to appear – but then it seemed that Lily was running and then she was colliding with Potter and then…_

_Snape cringed, and yet – he couldn't look away, his eyes seemed magnetized to her. For a fleeting moment, he imagined that it was him she was kissing, but reality struck with a cold, hard slab of snow, which fell from the branch above his head._

_Melting snow trickling down the back of his neck, Severus Snape cast one final, long glance toward the kissing couple and stomped back to the castle._

* * *

It had been a long day. In fact, Peter was pretty sure he was technically still supposed to be on holidays, it being Boxing Day and all. Nevertheless, he'd found himself at work dealing with the Muggle side of the aftermath of the Christmas Night attack, and inevitably a day of work meant after-work drinks at the Leaky Cauldron with the rest of his team from the Muggle Liaison Office.

Three butterbeers later and Peter found it was his turn to buy a round. He stood briskly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he took a quick head count (their group had grown in number since the last round, which was bad luck for him). Then, he smiled cheerfully and gave them all a little wave.

"Back in a moment!"

As soon as he turned his back, Peter experienced that familiar sinking feeling which meant someone was probably rolling their eyes at him. Knowing Peter's luck, it was probably more than rolling eyes, and possibly something more like talking about him. Or complaining.

Peter sighed, shoulders slumping as he headed away from their usual private room and down the corridor towards the bar. So long as they weren't scheming, he supposed he could live with it. And the quicker he returned with the drinks, the less time they had to bemoan him. Spurred on by that thought, Peter sped up.

He never made it.

The corridor, Peter felt, became inexplicably dark all of a sudden, and he had that other sinking feeling, the one that told him he wasn't alone.

Drawing his wand, he whipped it out in front of him, meaning to mutter, 'lumos.'

Instead, in a flurry of robes, confusion and a muttered curse, Peter Pettigrew found himself in midair, pressed up against the wooden wall of the pub as his wand cluttered uselessly to the ground.

Severus Snape's hooked nose became immediately discernable in the half-light.

"Is it true?" he hissed, black eyes wild.

Face inches from Peter's, Snape glared at him. Peter shivered, suppressing the sudden urge to spit in his face. Angering one's captor had never been a good idea.

"Is what true?" he managed.

Snape raised his wand, causing the collar of Peter's shirt to tighten around his throat. Peter gasped.

"Is She going to marry him?" Snape asked, slowly and dangerously, as though talking to a particularly stupid and despicable scrap of humanity.

Peter tried to draw himself up, bristling ever so slightly. There was no need to question the identity of 'She'.

"Of course she is. I saw James prop-"

Peter's collar tightened, swiftly cutting him off. Snape, it appeared, had heard enough.

He swept away down the corridor, leaving Peter choking mid air until the last possible moment. Just before he turned from the corridor, there was a final swish of fabric. Peter felt the spell release him. He slid rather haphazardly down the wall, collapsing into a crumbled heap on the floor.

What had that been about? Peter wondered briefly, scrabbling around for his wand. Hand fastening reassuringly on the oiled wood, he straightened. That had been very strange. Very strange indeed.

Certainly, something Sirius and Remus would be very interested in hearing about.

Peter left the Leaky Cauldron in a hurry, not even bothering to bid his workmates farewell.

* * *

**Note: Thanks so much for reading – I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter!**

**Next chapter: With rising dissent rampant amongst the ranks of the new Aurors, how far will James and Sirius go?  
**

**P.S. Sorry for the delay. As some of you know, I'm a perfectionist. 'Nuf said?**


	3. In Which Something is Amiss

**Disclaimer: All characters and settings borrowed from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I just play with her ideas.**

* * *

**3. In Which Something is Amiss**  
_New Year's Eve_

The Auror's Department was certainly an improvement on the Hole. Instead of a series of adjacent desks, crushed together like an overcrowded classroom, the room was a large and spacious, and divided into dual cubicles to allow partners to collaborate. Along one long wall ran a series of glass panels, frosted for privacy, which concealed the large conference room the trainees had gathered in almost a week previously to receive their hasty promotions.

Several days hadn't done much to dull James and Sirius' aversion to the new laws – a fact that had not gone unnoticed in the higher circles of the Ministry, where word traveled as fast as the flying memos could carry it. In fact, gossip said that had the Auror department not been in such dire straits – the only guarantee, so Moody said, was that the casualty rate would climb – those two young ringleaders, close to matching the infamy of their Hogwarts days, would have found themselves locked in Azkaban overnight to reconsider their position.

Of course, what the gossip neglected to note was that if the Department had _not_ been in such dire straits, those laws would have never been enacted.

"Ran into the new trainees today, moving in," Sirius remarked, without his usual flippancy. He grimaced. "Scamander."

James flinched immediately: he had arguably a lot of unfinished business, so far as Lily's ex-boyfriend was concerned, and the last thing he needed was that twat wandering around his workplace. Knowing Scamander, his bravado would see him killed within the first few days, provided he didn't quit first. "Didn't he _not_ make it in with us?" he asked suddenly.

Sirius frowned, nodding glumly. "That's exactly what I thought. Second rate trainees, then. _Merlin_ what's the world coming to?"

"It's about to get a lot worse, Black."

Moody had a nasty habit of interrupting Sirius' more melodramatic moments.

James, Sirius and the other Aurors looked at him warily.

Moody nodded, as if to confirm their worst fears. "An attack, lads. Manchester. Civillian casualties and reported Death Eater activities."

Moody had elected to promote himself to Supervisor of the new Auror division, and he drew his wand now. "Potter, Black, Fenwick, Marshall – reconnaissance. The rest of you lot, listen closely – we do _nothing_ until those four report back, do you hear me? Ryan, Longbottom – offensive with me. Longbottom, Simons, Prewett, Prewett, Robertson and Hickey - defensive. Right?"

The team of premature graduates nodded, faces steely. James blinked. _They weren't ready for this_, he thought. The knowledge echoed in the back of his mind, a great, ominous cloud of doubt, as Moody quickly filled his team in.

* * *

"_The Ministry's in trouble, Moody."  
Alastor Moody eyed Bartemis Crouch warily, waiting for him to continue. _

"_For eleven years, now, things have been happening; disappearances, mysterious illnesses, Muggle families dying." Crouch shook his head, lips pursed together firmly. "It is no longer acceptable for the Department to simply react, Moody. I want pre-emptive action. I want this You-Know-Who caught, and quickly."_

_Moody raised his eyebrows. "Haven't we been trying to do something about it, Crouch?" he inquired mildly, his voice a low growl. "I was under the impression I'd lost five wizards and four witches in the process of doing something about it."_

_Crouch refused to meet the accusation in his eyes. "Yes, the casualties have been … regrettable … And I'm afraid you may have miscounted."_

_Moody froze, suddenly feeling ill. "_No_. Who?" he demanded._

_Crouch coughed. "Dorcas Meadows, not seen since last Friday…"_

"_Friday!" Moody roared. A week! Merlin, they could have sent out searches - they could have found her already - maybe, they could even have recovered her alive. A week was too long, though. Moody shook his head sadly; a week was too long to hope she'd turn up alive. Anger surged through Moody's veins, making his pulse throb in his neck. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low. "Why wasn't I informed earlier, Crouch?"_

_Crouch shrank, bristling. "I will not be spoken to-"_

"_Why was I not informed?" Moody repeated, glowering dangerously. _

_Crouch muttered something indistinctive; Moody could have sworn he heard the phrase 'internal investigation.'_

"_Bartemis Crouch, I swear if I hear of you interfering with my Aurors, so Merlin help you-"_

_Crouch looked suddenly and inexplicably smug. "And how are your precious trainees doing, Alastor? It would hardly do to see their Head thrown into Azkaban for threatening a senior Ministry official, now would it?"_

_Moody's mouth opened and closed silently, suppressing his sudden urge to _Avara Kedavra _a certain senior Ministry official.  
How _dare_ Crouch threaten him? He'd been a loyal employee of the Ministry for almost fifty years now – certainly much longer than Crouch had been on the scene. If anyone should be concerned about threatening a _senior_ Ministry official, it should be Crouch!_

_Crouch looked pleased._ _He nodded, once again businesslike. "I'm glad we understand each other, Alastor. And I'm ever so pleased we had this chance to talk."_

_He swept out of Moody's office with a casual nod, his eyes glittering. As soon as the door was closed, Moody threw the nearest thing – unfortunately, his favourite mug – at the thickened wood. It shattered. Moody scowled._

* * *

Alastor Moody gripped his wand tighter in an effort to hide his shaking hands. He didn't like this at all, not one bit, and yet – _orders were orders_.

"Nothing stupid," he growled, voice low as he fixed each of them, in turn, with a stern look. "And remember – you all know the new rules. No unnecessary risks, _constant vigilance_. Have I made myself clear?"

There was a small murmur of assent. Moody straightened, eyeing the doorway darkly. "Right lads – _ladies_ – let's get to it, then."

For all his misgivings, there was no denying that Sirius was finding it difficult to suppress his excitement. James eyed his best friend dubiously, running quickly through his mental checklist: wand in hand, Sirius next to him, laces tied, ring in pocket- _ring on Lily's finger_, he corrected himself with a small grin. Yes, everything was ready.

Sirius checked his watch, eyes following the second hand eagerly. Thirteen seconds … He drew a deep breath. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest that he was surprised James hadn't complained yet. In fact, every fibre of his being seemed to be pulsing – _this is what he'd been waiting for_.

"_Now_," James hissed, strangely breathless.

Like two dark shadows, the pair darted out from the cover of the alleyway, racing along the cobblestone street silently. The air was strangely still, and there were no other signs of movement; strange, since Moody said there'd been an attack. James risked a quick glance around before he and Sirius ducked into the next doorway, safely out of sight.

Moments later, another pair of black cloaks darted past them, not even pausing to acknowledge their presence. _Leap-frog_, Travis had exclaimed delightedly as Moody had explained the plan, before launching into a hurried explanation of the Muggle children's game. A swift glance at Sirius' face made James wince; personally, he'd rather their first mission bore no resemblance to a game, but his best friend obviously disagreed.

"_Go_," Sirius hissed, and again they darted out into the empty streetscape, this time crossing the roadway and pausing in the shadow of a towering pillar. Again, the familiar black shapes darted past only moments later. Sirius was already looking at his watch when-

A blinding flash of light illuminated the street; someone muffled a scream. Without thinking, Sirius darted out of the shadows, wand raised as three hooded figures advanced towards them from the far end of the lane. The eerie silence seemed suddenly to intensify; it was too quiet, the streets of Manchester too empty. Sirius was approaching three hooded, robed figures - almost definitely armed - and he looked calm, even flippant, about it, as though he were approaching someone he'd known his entire life. James' eyes widened with alarm: what had Moody said? _No unnecessary risks_….

"_Padfoot_," James moaned, pinching his nose quickly, mind racing. He really wasn't in the mood to kill anyone tonight – or ever, for that matter, although James appreciated that this was unlikely in his chosen profession...

"Good evening," Sirius called casually, face splitting into a broad grin. "Bella, I'd know that glide any-"

James muffled a groan, although Sirius' flippancy suddenly made sense - he _had_ known at least one of those figures his entire life.

One of the hooded figures raised their wand – a muffled croak emitted from beneath the folds of material, so quiet that James almost missed it.

Sirius sidestepped the brilliant-yellow curse without so much as a wince; the force of the spell shattered against an iron lamp-post, and James watched, swallowing hard, as the metal turned to nothingness. With a loud _crash_, the remnants of the light pole crashed to the ground.

"Is that the best you have, Cousin?" Sirius was mocking; across the alleyway, something caught James' attention. Benjy and Travis were waving frantically at him, their eyes wide with horror.

Moody's words pounded through James' head.

_No unnecessary risks_.

Quickly, he lifted his hand in a simple signal. Benjy caught his eye and nodded.

James stepped out into the street, walking swiftly towards Sirius without a backwards glance. Behind him, he heard footsteps and gulped, hoping with all his being that they belonged to his friends.

James raised his wand just as the middle figure made to croak a second spell.

"_Stupefy!_"

* * *

_"Lily, I've fancied you for years. A few weeks here or there isn't going to make much of a difference to me, is it?"_

_James peered at her earnestly, perched on the edge of her bed. His fingers were curled tightly around her quilt, and despite the assurance in his voice, he looked nervous._  
Perhaps not for you, but it makes a difference to me, James,_ she wanted to protest.  
Instead, Lily gazed at him hopelessly, fighting her impulse to give him a good crack over the head with a thick reference book. Unfortunately, only her copy of Advanced Potions lay on her nightstand, just out of reach, and she didn't really want to hurt James that much. Besides, she supposed it was rather like travesty to use a book as a weapon.  
In fact, she'd much rather have kissed him, but Lily knew now that he wouldn't allow that. Not at the moment, anyway._

_The problem was, just when they'd seemed to be converging emotionally, James had diverted his path once again. As much as his words had been brash and gallant, Lily was sure his heart wasn't in it, and she was doing her best to make it clear to him that she didn't agree either. Her imploring gaze didn't seem to be working very well, though.  
Not when James was now standing and backing his way towards the door. Their eyes were locked together, and all she could see was a determination she had no will to understand. He gave a final, courteous nod and disappeared, closing her bedroom door behind her._

_As soon as she heard the click, Lily twisted, hiding her face in the pillow to muffle her yell of frustration._

* * *

The café across from Lily's flat was crowded, full of families, friends and couples – as well as an extraordinary number of young children – chattering eagerly, each raising their voices to be heard. Lily and her mother had tucked themselves away in a corner seat, and Lily inched her chair even closer to the table, ducking her head to hear as her mother, voice lower than the rest of the patrons, spoke in earnest.

"I'm worried that you're settling, sweetheart." Patricia Evans paused, scanning her daughter's face tenderly. She preempted the protest with a raised palm. "Lily, this isn't about James. I love James. Your choice of husband isn't a problem."

Lily frowned, crossing her arms. She hated it when her mother was cryptic.

Patricia sighed, reaching toward her daughter across the tiny tabletop. She could hear the clatter of plates in the kitchen; the idle conversation of the waitresses behind the counter. The café was small but charming, and on such neutral ground Patricia couldn't think of a better place to hold the conversation they were just about to have. She gripped Lily's hands with her own, firmly, and Lily seemed to surrender, then, although nothing hid the suspicion in her eyes.

"It's just that you're so young, sweetheart. You have your whole lives ahead of you, a whole life of new experiences! I know that you love James, and that he loves you, but perhaps if you wait a few more years… Because you're eighteen, Lily! Only eighteen, and James is too, and… and what if you don't like being married? You're too young to make such big decisions without exploring your other options, too."

Lily closed her eyes, feigning the sort of pained thoughtfulness that would sooth her mother. In truth, Lily had already thought of all this. True, she would be nineteen in just under a month, which was terribly young, but she also knew that both she and James possessed maturity well beyond their youth. It was the sort of maturity that came with facing Voldemort, rejecting his recruitment program and making a conscious decision to fight on the side of good.

It was the sort of maturity that came from watching loved ones die, from struggling and failing to save them. And it was the sort of maturity that had led to James' proposal – because Merlin knew, he wasn't that silly, impulsive schoolboy any longer, and hadn't been for years. Now, he was a thoughtful, studied young man who didn't do anything lightly, and for that matter, Lily hadn't said yes lightly either.

Lily opened her eyes again, and nodded. Her voice was a loud whisper, anxious as she was for the other diners not to overhear some of the more unusual details of her life.

"We are young, Mum. You're right. But things are changing, and… there's a war, and I know I'm doing the right thing in marrying him, because no one knows how much time they have left. Just look at Daddy!"

She paused, blinking back sudden tears. The clatter in the kitchen paused, and Lily knew the waitress, clearing the table directly opposite them, had caught the tail end of her raised voice. She waited for the girl to resume her work.

"I don't doubt my decision, Mum, and neither should you. Beyond all that, I refuse to justify myself further. All right?"

Patricia blinked, weighing her daughter's words and feeling suddenly foolish. Suddenly, the dull ache that had heralded her husband's sudden absence several months earlier and set seed in her chest to linger ever since began to intensify.

She yearned for the past, for his arms to embrace her one last time, for his gentle voice to remind her not to fuss, that everything would turn out for the best…

Lily was more like her father than she had realized. Patricia offered her a hesitant smile, patted her hand.

"If you're sure, then."

* * *

"_Sirius!"_

_It wasn't at all who Sirius expected to hear, this voice echoing down the crooked lane way. He had been standing there for half an hour, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, dreaming of Florean Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour - only a few hundred yards away - and yet, for some strange reason he had been compelled to wait, and what for what?_

_Apparently –  
It was a child's voice that sounded behind him now. No, not such a child. More that of a boy, one growing into adulthood even as he spoke. It was, Sirius knew instantly, the voice of his brother._

"_Regulus?"_

_He would have been what, fifteen now? Sixteen?_

"_What do you want, Regulus?"_

_Regulus moved closer. His eyes were the same shade as his brother's, but they seemed different now, darker and more menacing._

"_I have been sent," he informed Sirius, head held high, chin jutting out with pride._

"_Sent?" Sirius spat the word out in disbelief. "Merlin, Reg, tell me you haven't…?"_

_Regulus smiled coldly. "Not officially, no. I'm too young. But I will, brother."_

"_And what has that got to do with me?"_

_Regulus sounded surprised. "Everything! Surely you knew this was coming, Sirius? They – we – want you to join us."_

"_Never."_

_Regulus raised his eyebrow, looking every inch the cocky teenaged heartbreaker. "Is that wise, Sirius?" he asked softly._

_Sirius shrugged, scuffing the toe of his left shoe on the cobblestones. "Probably not," he remarked softly. "But I never did what was smart, Reg. Not like you. No, I'm going to do what is right."_

_Regulus snorted with contempt. "You Gryffindors, always doing the noble thing." He shook his shaggy black hair. "I pity you, brother. Traitor."_

_Sirius smiled, then; a broad, satisfied smile that spread across his face with the ease of someone who was all at once very handsome and confident._

"_Do you really?" he asked mildly. "I don't. I'm quite happy, thank you. At least I can sleep at night, knowing that I'm doing something to stop the cowardly murder of innocent people."_

_A flicker of surprise betrayed itself across Regulus' face, and Sirius nodded, satisfied._

"_So tell your boss 'no' please. I'm quite confident in my choice. It's… liberating, to do the right thing. So thank you all the same, but no."_

_Regulus' face curled into a snarl. "I'll see you on the battlefield, then, brother," he hissed._

_Sirius blinked, betraying no sign of alarm. In fact, he was still smiling as he shrugged, amiably._

"_If that's the way it has to be."_

* * *

"_Stupefy_?" Moody repeated, his voice a low growl. James Potter met his eyes defiantly; Fenwick and Marshall hung back, their gazes carefully averted.

"It seemed appropriate," Potter replied steadily, arms crossed.

Moody sighed, leaning back against his desk in defeat. "Potter, you had your orders."

They'd been on _reconnaisance_, for Merlin's sake; Moody wasn't sure whether to throttle them, for putting themselves in harm's way like that, or Crouch for ... well, promoting them. Probably Crouch; because even though they _had_ been in harm's way, if it wasn't for Crouch's stupid Kill Laws, Moody wouldn't need to be wasting his afternoon issuing reprimands for disobeying protocol, anyway.

"It wasn't _necessary_," Potter argued. "And let's not even pretend that you agree with that load of rubbish anyway, Moody. You know as well as I do that we shouldn't be out there, not yet. We're clearly not ready, as Sirius so generously illustrated for you tonight."

Although he'd never admit as much, especially to Potter himself, Moody couldn't help but once again feel pride swelling fiercely in his chest. Although Potter didn't know it, Moody had been watching him very carefully, especially during the Order meetings these past few months, and he was impressed at how much this boy had grown up; how much they'd _all_ grown up. It hardly seemed fair, and yet here they were still, standing in Moody's depressingly small office arguing over something they both knew they already agreed about, simply for the sake of appearances.

"And look on the bright side, Moody." Black had had the gall to lean casually in his doorway, supremely unruffled. Now, though, he stood and launched himself forward to stand beside his best friend. "Now, at least, we know some names."

"We know _nothing_, Black," Moody growled. He hated that they were backing him into a corner; if he wanted to release those names, he'd have to submit a report, and Potter and Black would be called up in front of Crouch for deliberately defying a direct order. If Moody _didn't_ submit the report, he wouldn't be able to blacklist those names.

"Submit the report, Moody." Potter's voice was firm, his gaze measured. "Don't worry about Crouch; I don't mind explaining to him exactly why he's wrong."

"Oh don't you?"

This new voice was too slick, too silky. Moody swore under his breath as Crouch stalked into his office, clearly livid. Harmony Burbage hovered in the doorway, her young face overly eager. Moody scowled; he hated snitches. With a flick of his wand, the door swung shut. He'd deal with Burbage later.

Crouch stalked to the front of the room, and Moody stepped back respectfully as his superior placed himself directly in front of the young man, glowering up at him. He was a head shorter than Potter, but this didn't seem to worry him.

Potter's face didn't betray even a flicker of surprise; Moody was impressed.

"No, I don't, _sir_," Potter replied evenly.

"Would you care to explain why Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black and _your brother_, Mr Black-" for a single moment, Crouch's attention was diverted away from Potter, his lips curled in distaste as he eyed Sirius Black; his gaze snapped back to Potter with an intensity that made Moody flinch internally "-are currently sitting in the holding cells, Potter?"

"We Stunned them." Potter chanced a glance at Black, now; Black's mouth was set in a thin-lipped scowl. He turned back to Crouch, schooling his face into an expression of mild interest. "Are you suggesting, sir, that you would prefer to see them in the morgue at St Mungos? I'm not sure Orion and Cygnus Black or Diedrick Lestrange would care for that very much."

Moody closed his eyes. Truly, Potter had a point; Barty Crouch was notorious for his double standards, and it seemed apparent that if he wasn't going to yell at the lads for _not_ killing three hooded suspects, he _was_ going to express his displeasure at the capture of three notably pureblood wizards and witches.

Crouch didn't seem to know what to say. Moody knew he couldn't afford to sack all four Aurors for insubordinance on the spot – they were struggling for numbers as it was. The look in Potter's eye worried him some, though. The boy was stubborn _and _impulsive, although clearly he wasn't stupid. He knew he'd backed Crouch into a corner with as much ease as he'd done with Moody; he also knew that this time, no good could come of it.

"Capture was possible in these circumstances, Mr Crouch," Potter continued. His pretence of obliviousness was rock solid; Dumbledore had warned Moody so much when he heard Moody had signed them on. "We perceived three hooded and cloaked figures as a threat, sir; no less when Miss Lestrange actually attacked Sirius."

"A threat?" Crouch spluttered. Potter and Black exchanged a glance again; this time, the glint of mischief in their eyes was unmistakable. "Are you telling me, Potter, that you were able to identify your suspects and you still brought them in? The Blacks and the Lestranges are very old and very well thought of families, Potter, how _dare_ you show such disresp-"

"Oh come on, Crouch," Black scoffed, interrupting with casual ease. Crouch appeared as though he were going to have an apoplexy. "Disrespect? Rule 475, Trainee Auror's Handbook –" Moody handed it to him silently, frowning as Black flicked swiftly through the pages. Damn Black's brilliance; no good could _certainly not_ come from this. "- A suspect who opens fire may be perceived as sufficiently threatening, regardless of whether their identity is known or unknown."

Moody straightened; he knew what was coming now, the final nail in the coffin, so to speak – although exactly _whose_ coffin it was, he couldn't exactly be sure. His hopes weren't high, though. Potter was smiling, too pleasantly.

"Or should we assume that the children of families who like to offer generous donations to this department every year are exempt from those rules, sir?"

* * *

"_Miss Evans, isn't it?"_

Lily blinked, started, wheeling to face the strangely familiar voice. A smile broke out across her face as she hurriedly finished pulling her training-robes over her head.

"_Healer Tonks," Lily grinned, ducking her head in a slight nod. _

_Andromeda Tonks smiled broadly from the doorway of the Trainee's room. _

"_How would you like to take rounds with me, today, Healer Evans?"_

_Lily matched Andromeda's pace eagerly as she strolled the corridors briskly, frowning. She was supposed to be on the third floor today, helping Healer Garg with a particularly nasty Potions antidote. Instead, Andromeda had bypassed the third floor completely._

"_Have you considered your focus, yet, Lily?" Andromeda asked casually, eyes scanning the corridor. _

"_Well I was always rather fond of Potions," Lily repled thoughtfully. _

_Andromeda laughed suddenly. "Not Potions and Plant Poisoning, Lily – honestly. My cousin seems to think you're a dab hand at Charms, actually."_

_Lily blushed, shaking her head. "What's wrong with Potions and Plant Poisoning?" she asked, feeling a little put out. _And what did Charms have to go with anything, anyway??

_Andromeda raised her eyebrows delicately. "Nothing at all," she murmured serenely, in answer to Lily's spoken question. They were approaching a large double door, now. Lily drew a deep breath, eyes widening as they lit on the sign. Only targeted trainees were allowed to major in-_

"_I think you'll find, however, that Spell Damage is infinitely more interesting," Andromeda added, smiling slightly at the shock in Lily's eyes. "I've been keeping tabs on you, and you're easily one of the most promising we've had through our doors this year. This isn't just as a favour to Sirius; you've deserved it. If you like, I'd love to take you on as my targeted Trainee."_

_Lily cocked her head thoughtfully, processing this information. Suddenly, a slow smile spread across her face. _This_ would make her just as useful as any stupid Auror…_

Andromeda read her expression with a chuckle. "Unless, of course, you want to go back to the third floor…?"

"_No!" Lily responded, a little too quickly. "No, thank you." She beamed at Andromeda in earnest, wringing her hands. "_Thank you_."_

* * *

The _Harriet Drummond Ward for Hexes and Dark Curses_ was deathly silent; only two beds were occupied, and the patients appeared to be out cold. Lily bit her lip, frowning as the worry lines on Andromeda's forehead deepened.

"This isn't normal," she muttered absently. "Something's happened, something we haven't been told about."

Lily nodded, resting her head against the counter. "James said the Ministry was up to something funny," she mumbled, eyes dropping tiredly. _Just three more hours and you'll get to see him_, she reminded herself firmly.

Much to her surprise, she saw Andromeda was suddenly smiling.

"I hear you're engaged," she offered.

Lily met her eyes, startled. "Oh! Oh, goodness, I'm sorry – I forget, you know…. That I haven't told people, that is. It spread around like wild-fire, actually."

Andromeda nodded, smiling gently. "People like hearing good news, Lily – especially in these times. Hope is an amazingly important thing, you know."

This seemed to make sense; Lily nodded in agreement, sighing. Andromeda's eyes were still fixed on her, patient. Lily startled again, feeling sheepish.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Did you want to see my ring?"

Andromeda chuckled and leaned forwards as Lily offered her left hand for inspection. Her long brown hair swept over her face, hiding her expression as she lifted her arm. Setting it back down gently, palm flat to the desk, Andromeda leaned back and smiled.

"Beautiful. I like a wizard who has good taste in jewellery." She nodded sagely. "Personally, I didn't trust Ted to choose one for himself."

Lily shrugged, bashful. Andromeda had a point; James appeared to have _unusually_ good taste. She grinned.

"Why else would I marry him?" she joked.

Andromeda winked. "Naturally."

Several yards away, the patient in the first bed was stirring. Andromeda was suddenly on her feet; moments later, she was leaning over the bed, charts in hand. Lily hurried to her side.

"Mrs Collopy, how are you feeling now?"

The woman beamed up at Andromeda blissfully. "Absolutely _fan-tas-tic_, Healer Tonks. My, Healer Evans, aren't you just radiant, darling? I think I'm quite well enough to go home, really. I've never felt so good in my life, I swear!"

Andromeda gave Lily a meaningful look. "Mrs Collopy, it seems you still have a great deal of damage from the Cheering Charm. I'm afraid we want to keep you in here for just a few more days," she added, smiling brightly. "And _then_ you can go home. I hear the weather's not very nice at the moment, so you may as well be in here."

Mrs Collopy sighed. "Oh, I do love unpleasant weather," she sighed, smiling. "Thank you, Healer."

Andromeda nodded, raising her wand. She waved it gently over Mrs Collopy's smiling face; the woman settled once more.

Lily slipped back into her seat behind the Healer's station counter with a sigh.

"I don't see why they put her in here with us," she murmured, rolling her eyes.

Andromeda laughed. "Perhaps, yes. Faustina has always had a decent sense of humour, I suppose."

Faustina Finley was the Healer in charge of the Spell Damage division, a jolly looking older witch with a permanent smile. Lily wouldn't be surprised if Faustina's finely honed sense of irony was responsible for Mrs Collopy's placement. Nevertheless - her opinion of Cheering Charms aside - Lily had to admit it was a pleasant change from the oft-unrecognisable patients she'd seen enter in a steady flow of pain since late September.

Andromeda scribbled something onto Mrs Collopy's chart, frowning. "Drat – Lily, could you run over to Faustina's office and ask if I can borrow her copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ please? I forgot to check that buttermilk syrup…"

Lily nodded, rising to her feet slowly and making her way out of the ward. It wasn't just her section that was quiet, either. The corridors seemed deathly silent. Peering through the window of the neighbouring ward – the _Phyllis Thatch Ward for Incorrectly Placed Charms_, where Mrs Collopy was _supposed_ to be – she was unsurprised to find it empty. Something was not right.

* * *

_Their gazes were locked, hazel to black; their expressions were strangely identical - transfixed, as though they had seen each other's true self for the first time, and startled too, because neither had expected to be caught, and especially not by the other._

_It seemed ironic, at least as far as James was concerned, that this would come to a head in the library, of all places. Snape was the first to draw his wand._

_"__You stay away from her, you understand, Potter?" he snarled. _

_Several yards away, hidden for now behind several rows of densely shelved books, Lily continued to study, oblivious to her lurking audience._

_The wooden tip of Snape's wand bit into his chin, but James didn't notice other than to attribute the move to Sirius – so Snape had been watching, leaning, after all…__ James' hand closed on Snape's wrist, wrenching his wand-hand back from his body and twisting. Snape's arm was tugged behind his back, the painful angle, and he squirmed, gasping. _

_"__Over my dead body, Snivellus. She's not your's either. You lost your chance."_

_James probably couldn't have inspired more hatred if he'd tried. Snape struggled, fruitlessly, and James swiftly relieved him of his wand. _

_"__She'll never care for you, Potter," Snape snapped angrily, lashing out suddenly. James fell back against solid bookshelf, catching his elbow against the edge of a shelf._

_"__You don't sound so confident, there, do you Snivelly?" James taunted, smirking. If nothing else, he knew his confidence was more than capable of hitting its mark._

_Snape glowered for a moment, refusing to meet his eyes. Then, unexpectedly, those thin, pale lips curled into a wry smile._

_"__At least she cares for me, Potter. At least she cares."_

_Snape turned then, sweeping away through the shelves like a great bat. James watched him go, eyes narrowed, rubbing his elbow sourly. _

_Lily continued to read, oblivious. James crept closer, settling back to watch her wistfully; secretly, he longed to scoop her training hair from the page of her textbook and feel it's soft silkiness between his fingers. He smiled a little sadly, imagining exactly which curse she'd unleash on him for that._

_James sighed._

_He wondered if she'd ever notice__._

* * *

Lily fumbled the key in the lock, stifling a yawn. Arms full of groceries, she stumbled into her flat, moving blindly.

"James?"

"Right here," he grinned, messy head appearing over the brown paper bags. Quickly, he dropped his face to hers for a welcoming kiss.

"How was your day?" she asked shrewdly as he drew away, reading the familiar twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

Unexpectedly, James sighed, running his fingers through his hair. This only served to make her more suspicious. Next thing she knew, he scooped the grocery bags out of her arms and disappeared with them towards the kitchen. Lily folded her arms, perplexed; then, she noticed the three pairs of beady eyes fixed on her from the dining table.

At once, Sirius, Remus and Peter hurriedly stood, moving to greet her. Remus was as friendly as always, and even Peter seemed enthusiastic in his hug, although something was clearly bothering him. Sirius' face, though –

Lily sighed, too, and took a seat. The dining table was littered with bottles of Butterbeer, and when James returned, he plonked an unopened one down in front of her before twisting the lid off effortlessly.

"What's going on?" Lily demanded, eyes traveling between the four boys, her stomach sinking. This was beyond suspicious. Her eyes rested on James, and she raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

The three young men turned to regard James as well.

He cleared his throat, and suddenly it seemed as though he were fighting a smile. Lily cast her gaze around the table again, confused. Remus didn't look too impressed, and Peter seemed frankly bewildered now, but Sirius too was fighting to hide a broad grin. He looked even a little reckless; Lily winced.

"I – er, that is to say, Lily, that _we_, James and I-"

James reached across the table to grip Lily's hands. Smoothly, he slid her bottle of Butterbeer between her palms.

"Lily, Sirius and I quit our jobs today."

Lily blinked, staring down at the brown glass bottle blankly. Then, inhaling deeply and squeezing her eyes shut, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a deep drink.

* * *

**Next chapter: Lily and James do some investigating; and what's in the mysterious package that arrives on Sirius' doorstep?**

**Note: I know this chapter has been delayed for a very long time. Thanks so much for your patience in the interim. **

**Originally I intended to do a complete overhaul of this story, but something stopped me: you guys. Your reviews were so encouraging and inspiring that instead of taking this story down and completely rewriting it, I decided to give it a chance. As it is, **_**I Solemnly Swear**_** has survived with very few changes, and I can't thank you enough, because without you guys who knows when or if I would have picked this up again! **

**I hope you liked this chapter, and if you did (or even, if you didn't) I'd love to hear your thoughts**

**Lexie**


	4. In Which Things Are Set In Motion

**Disclaimer: All characters and settings borrowed from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I just play with her ideas.**

**The story so far:**_ After the call to a Death Eater attack ruins their Christmas Dinner, James fumbles through an unorthodox proposal of marriage, and Lily accepts. Things rapidly begin to return to normal, except that they're don't. At the Ministry of Magic, Barty Crouch is on the warpath, and Alastor Moody can do little to stop him. In protest over the new laws, James and Sirius quit their jobs just in time for the New Year._

* * *

**4. In Which Things Are Set In Motion**  
_January 9_

"I don't trust this," Sirius murmured quietly, casting a dark look toward the kitchen. Dimly, Remus, Sirius and Peter could hear the dull clinks of crockery and the steady thud of a knife on the wooden chopping board. "It seems too … _domestic. _When's she going to snap? It's been a week!"

Remus raised his eyebrows, tucking an amused smile away into the corners of his mouth. He wasn't in the mood to find Sirius amusing.

"Just putting this out there, but I don't think this is the right time to tell Prongs and Lily about Snape, either," Peter muttered, gazing questioningly at Remus.

Remus shook his head slowly; it seemed silly, Snape being angry about James and Lily's engagement – really, who was surprised? – and so they'd been putting off mentioning it. In hindsight, they probably should have called James and Lily into Sirius' flat on Boxing Day night when Peter had first arrived, slightly frazzled, but they hadn't wanted to interrupt the happy couple's first chance to be alone since their engagement.

But today seemed no more appropriate than yesterday, and yesterday had felt no more appropriate than the day before, all things considering. At this rate, Remus was quite sure they'd _never_ get around to telling them. It wouldn't do to spoil things now, certainly – not when they were going so well. Lily had smiled and nodded as fiercely as anyone when James and Sirius had recounted in great detail their quitting the Ministry, but there was no hiding the underlying concern in her eyes; Crouch wasn't pleased, _again_, and there was no pretending that they all didn't have a very good idea of the mischief the pair promised to fall into now that their time wasn't so closely regulated by Moody.

Remus rubbed his eyes tiredly, before resting his head on his hand. It seemed absurd to be thinking it, and yet – _he was getting too old for this_. Listening to James and Lily preparing dinner was a startling reminder of what life should be like, and yet he'd spent his day chasing up leads for Dumbledore. In some ways, it was like a game: a warped hybrid of a treasure hunt and a wild goose chase. Rosmerta and Aberforth had nothing; no names, only vague remembrances of some shaded faces and half-heard conversations which were of use to no one. Tom was a little better; his hunched back and hobbling walk seemed to mask his quick eyes and sharp hearing, and at least he'd been able to pass on mutterings about giants on the coast of France and werewolf sightings in Ireland. None of these pieces of news did anything to allay the growing sense of menace Remus felt spreading like a disease through the winding streets of London.

"Remus?" Lily appeared in the doorway, arms full of a steaming platter of what smelled like roast potatoes. "Could you set the table, please?"

Peter was already standing to clear the assorted bottles with a flick of his wand; Sirius simply pushed his chair back, looking uncomfortably useless.

Remus rose to his feet with a sigh and made his way into the kitchen to flick open the cutlery drawer. James winked at him from the stove.

"Everything all right?" Remus muttered. No-one had been fooled by Lily's ruse of making James help her cook; in fact, the whole idea had only served to increase everyone's anxiety levels unnecessarily.

James gave a short nod, smiling crookedly. His voice was low and soothing, and Remus couldn't help but marvel at the degree of patience James had developed over the past three years

"Of course, Moony; everything's fine now."

* * *

"Not _the batwings, Potter you _idiot!"

_Just about everyone in the crowded Potions classroom winced, including Professor Slughorn. Only Severus Snape and, strangely, James Potter himself, smiled. _

"_Just testing you, Evans," he murmured. _

_If this was his attempt at reassurance, Severus couldn't help thinking (just a little smugly) that Potter had a lot to learn about the girl who was currently glaring daggers at him. _

Professor Slughorn was making his way through the rows of benches, now, his normally jolly face concerned. "Ah, now, Mister Potter," he called a little anxiously. "Everything all right, Miss Evans?"

_Lily glanced up at Slughorn, her expression perfectly pleasant. "Just fine, thank you," she replied sweetly. _

_Slughorn looked almost as baffled as Potter. Unconsciously charmed, he moved forward to examine the contents of Lily's cauldron. A slow smile spread across his enormous face, threatening to disappear into his third chin. _

_He tapped a finger to his nose, eyes twinkling merrily now. "And, Miss Evans, what would you have done if Mr Potter _had_ indeed added the Batwings so prematurely?"_

_Lily frowned thoughtfully; Potter relaxed against the bench behind him, looking bored. _

"_Well, I would have added the caterpillar skin straight away, and then stirred counter-clockwise for half a minute. It wouldn't be perfect, I suppose, but under such circumstances-"again, she directed a glare towards Potter, who straightened, surprised "- it would probably give the best outcome I could hope for."_

_Slughorn nodded, pleased; Severus felt a strange surge of pride. Though he couldn't exactly take credit for Lily's brilliance, a small part of him felt that in some ways it was appropriate; after all, who had been the one to introduce her to the magical world? _

_Potter was still frowning at the back of her head. Severus stiffened unconsciously, waiting. _

"_Look, Evans, I really don't think that was called for, you know – I'm not _stupid_, or anything."_

_Lily didn't even bother to turn around. "You like to think so, don't you? How about we make a deal, Potter: you never touch a potion of mine again, and I won't hex you for taking credit for my work too often. Sound fair?"_

_Potter scowled, moving toward the cauldron defiantly, wand raised; Lily spun, eyes blazing. She slapped his wand-hand down with the flat edge of her knife. _

"_Don't touch, Potter. I mean it."_

_Potter simply smirked. Then – _

"_POTTER!" Lily screamed, watching horrified as the sickly yellow potion erupted upwards from her cauldron with the force of a small explosion; it hit the ceiling and splattered, tiny droplets spraying down on the other First Years. Slughorn felt the soft _smack_ of something trickling down the back of his neck before he turned, frowning. _

_Potter grinned._

* * *

"And Mum was thinking we could get married in a Church-" Lily broke off, flashing a smile at James, who seemed to rock back on his chair, surprised. "I told her I didn't know if we were religious. _Are_ we religious, James?"

James ran a hand through his hair, mystified at the piles of paper that had materialized out of nowhere to scatter across his dining table. "I don't know, Lily. I don't _think_ so… I mean, I don't know, I was never taught … if we believe in Gob or anything?"

"God, James," Lily corrected patiently, fighting a bubble of laughter. "His name is God."

James rolled his eyes and flapped his hand at her. "Oh, whatever, Lily. Anyway… is it important that we get married in a church? I mean – frankly, I couldn't care less. We could get married right here. I do, you do, and we're done!"

"I believe that's missing the point a little, James," Remus offered from the lounge, where he was watching Peter and Sirius play Wizarding Chess. "You proposed, I think you signed yourself up for a little bit of pomp and circumstance."

James rolled his eyes. "But you know how much I hate it!"

Lily patted his hand sympathetically. "I know… don't think I've forgotten the little disappearing act you pulled on Graduation, James," she reminded him with a smile.

Remus and James exchanged a secret look, eyebrows raised, and James remembered gratefully how few questions Lily had actually asked.

"Actually," Peter interrupted thoughtfully; everyone's eyes fixed on him in surprise; they thought he'd been too consumed in the match to listen. "Actually, I _have_ seen a little wizarding church, in a little village over near Wales."

"Really, Peter?"

Peter looked slightly amused as he met Lily's quizzical gaze. "Mum took me there to visit one of her old-bat friends one day, and I wandered off, and saw it… and I _swear_ it's a wizard village, guys. Though there might be a few Muggles…?"

Lily turned to James, eyebrows raised. "Honestly, I couldn't care less if we weren't married in a church, James, but … you know, for Mum??"

James sighed, squeezing her fingers. He smiled ruefully at Peter, avoiding Sirius' incredulous gaze.

"Right-o, then. Where was this Wizard Church, Wormy?"

Peter frowned thoughtfully. "Godric's… Hill?"

"Godric's Hollow, actually."

"Moony?" Sirius sounded taken aback.

Remus shrugged. "I was only there yesterday…"

* * *

_"I know I ask a great burden of you, Remus." Dumbledore sighed, staring absently toward the window._

_Remus wondered what he saw; his old Headmaster's forehead was a concertina of wrinkles and worry lines which cascaded down his skin toward his blue eyes, which were clouded with thought._

"_Honestly, Professor, I don't have anything better to do with my time."_

_Remus spread his hands wide as if to illustrate the emptiness of his day, smiling. That seemed to call Dumbledore back to the present; he smiled sadly. _

"_Nothing worse, I suppose, but certainly something better," Dumbledore said, and Remus found he couldn't really argue; still, collecting information for the Order sounded nothing if not promising. _

"_I'm prepared to do whatever I can to help, Albus." Remus' tongue stumbled over the name, disused to it's sound. "And there's none with more talent than I for passing unnoticed."_

"_None save, perhaps, your friends," Dumbledore amended, his eyes twinkling. _

_Remus blushed, and stared at his hands, unwilling to confess the secret of James' Cloak. _

"_Perhaps," he agreed quietly. _

"_Remus, I believe you're already familiar with my brother, Aberforth, and Madame Rosmerta, and Old Tom at the Leaky Cauldron?"_

_Remus nodded once, jerkily, still staring at his hands. _

"_I have an agreement with them, to … keep me informed of all the comings and goings in their places of business. But I don't believe you're acquainted with Holbrok, of Gringotts, or Madame Esrel, who owns the cellars in Knockturn Alley? Or, for that matter, any of the number of great publicans that can be found in the many wizarding villages dotted about the countryside?"_

_Remus shook his head, unable to restrain himself from glancing at Dumbledore again, in surprise. _A spy in Gringotts?

Dumbledore seemed to read the question in his eyes. He smiled. "No spy, Remus – just a very old friend. When you meet with them – which you will – please, show them this."

_Dumbledore's desk drawer slid open; the old Headmaster peered inside, then smiled. He passed a little, gold-plated seal to Remus across the table. Remus examined it curiously, turning it over and over in his hand. It had all the appearances of a Hogwarts seal, until… _

_Remus blinked. The elegant H melted away to reveal the insignia of a bird, though it was not the sign of Ravenclaw. Remus grinned appreciatively, casting a look towards Fawkes, who presided over their meeting with an air of gravity which surpassed even Dumbledore's. _

"_A phoenix?" Remus asked softly, impressed. _

_Dumbledore smiled. "Yes. They will know it for what it is."_

* * *

"You know, this really isn't necessary James," Lily murmured reluctantly, chancing a quick glance behind her. The street was relatively busy. Muggles bustled past on their way to work, and the traffic on the roads was moving along at a snail's pace. Peak hour in London was never pleasant, and yet she couldn't help but laugh at her fiancé's expression; he gazed around him in amazement, eyes catching on the cars, clothes, houses …

Ahead of them, the 'walk' sign on a busy intersection lit up, and James smirked. Lily could almost hear his thoughts – she was sure it'd be something patronizing, along the lines of _stupid Muggles need a flashing light to tell them when it's safe to cross a road!_

"What isn't necessary?" he responded finally, recalling her complaint.

His hand tightened around hers very deliberately, and Lily sighed.

"You _don't_ need to walk me to work every morning."

As amusing as everything was to James, there were certain other benefits to the chaos of London mornings; they both knew that no one would dare launch an attack with the chance of so many witnesses.

James shrugged easily. "I like walking you to work, Lily. Being _unemployed_ can get quite dull, you know."

He was teasing her now, because unemployed was a very loose term where James was concerned. In fact, gazing up at him thoughtfully, Lily doubted if she'd ever seen him busier. James simply winked and slipped an arm around her waist.

The mannequin in the window of _Purge and Dowse, Ltd_ regarded the pair quizzically as Lily approached it, smiling.

"Good morning, Ethel," she offered cheerfully.

James nodded respectfully, and they stepped through the window without any further ado.

The waiting room was crowded as usual, the rickety old chairs packed with a variety of witches and wizards. James peered about the room curiously, his smile wavering between apathy and amusement. Lily elbowed him, glaring disapprovingly, and with a cheerful nod to the Welcome Witch she took his hand and ducked toward the Staff entrance.

"I _wish_ you wouldn't stare," she admonished quietly, frowning up at him as soon as they were concealed behind the surprisingly springy wooden door.

James shrugged amiably. "The St Mungo's waiting room is every wizard's dream freak parade. People are _surprised_ when you don't stare! Can you honestly blame me?" He grinned. "Didn't think so."

Before she could protest, he leant over and planted a kiss on her lips. Lily submitted quite willingly, disapproving thoughts all-but vanishing. James cupped her face in his hands.

"Love you," he mumbled, pecking her lips again.

Lily leant her forehead against his, feelingly pleasantly light-headed. "I know. Love you too."

Someone coughed. Lily turned, startled, to find Healer Finley waiting, smiling slightly.

"Lily," she nodded. "James. _Congratulations_."

James straightened, grinning broadly. Lily's boss was nice enough, but Merlin help him if he distracted Faustina's trainees from their work. "Healer Finley – I was _just leaving_. I'll see you at home, Lily."

Lily watched James disappear back through the Staff door with only a little reluctance. Turning back to the Healer, she shrugged unapologetically.

Healer Finley smiled blithely. "I do mean it, you know," she offered. "I hope you two do well together."

Lily shrugged, feeling a little shy. "Thanks, Faustina."

The older witch nodded absently, sorting through the pile of files in her arms. Finding the right one, she handed it over without any further ado.

"New laws," she murmured by way of explanation. "Make sure Healer Tonks sees this too, if you please. You're not going to like them, I'm afraid, but it's out of my hands."

Lily accepted the file with a frown; from its bland purple cover, she couldn't fathom it containing anything out of the ordinary. Certainly not something that would ruffle Faustina Finley's feathers. Nevertheless –

"Thanks, Faustina," Lily repeated, taking advantage of her nod of dismissal and continuing down the corridor. Her head was already buried in the sheaf of thick parchment, searching, searching …

Lily stopped dead with a gasp of outrage.

* * *

_"I hope you boys know what you're doing."_

_Sirius had never seen Moody look so grim before. Without thinking, he leant forward to brace the old wizard's arm. _

"'_Course we don't," he replied lightly, hoping to Merlin Moody didn't miss the gratefulness in his eyes. _

"_When do we ever?" James agreed, his words similarly disproportionate to his expression. _

_Moody sighed, his gaze never wavering from the young men before him. Sirius was quietly aware that the atmosphere seemed to be sinking lower. _

"_We can take care of ourselves, at any rate," he offered, shrugging. "And it's not like we won't have things to _do_, if you know what I-"_

_Moody let out a low growl, which Sirius immediately interpreted as an order to silence himself. Then, much to Sirius' amazement, Moody pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head. _

_James was frowning too. Sirius followed his best friend's gaze. _

_There was something new about Moody's office, something he couldn't quite put his finger on …_

_James gasped suddenly, his eyes lighting on the small slip of wall beside Moody's window. A new portrait hung there. _

_Sirius took a step closer, intrigued. After all, it wasn't like Moody to keep portraits of – well, _anyone_. A miniature seemed grossly out of character, and perhaps this was why Moody had positioned his back toward it._

_The miniature of Crouch seemed to think so, too. He sat against a dignified black-velvet backdrop, arms crossed, dozing lightly._

_Unaware until that point that he'd even been holding his breath, Sirius expelled it gently, looking once more at Moody. James was doing the same, expression incredulous. _

_The old Auror shrugged, looking defeated, and jerked his head toward the doorway. Sirius nodded quickly; James was already over the threshold. _

"_See you Tuesday," he mouthed, winking. Moody sighed._

* * *

The Hogs' Head was as usual; even at the early hour, there was a smattering of patrons tucked into the knarled wooden furniture, bent over mugs of mulled mead and Firewhiskey. Remus paused in the doorway as all but one turned to assess him dispassionately. One by one, they turned back, satisfied (most probably) that he wasn't any threat to their privacy. The irony of this made Remus want to burst into semi-hysterical laughter, but letting go of his composure here, in this nondescript little bar in Hogsmeade, was nothing if not dangerous. Instead, Remus caught the barman's eye as he made his way toward the grubby bar. Aberforth met his gaze levelly and jerked his head toward the back room.

"Afternoon," Remus greeted him easily as Dumbledore's brother slipped past the grimy curtain and tugged it shut.

Aberforth nodded curtly. "My brother said to expect you." He looked as though the thought of his brother left a sour taste in his mouth.

Remus fixed a face into a mild expression, deciding that, as usual, he didn't want to know.

"I was wondering. Have you had anyone especially unusual in the last few days?" he asked, keeping his voice low. He doubted very much if that grimy, tattered curtain masked any sound from carrying, and there had been a few people at the bar who eyed him with a little more than apathetic curiousity.

Aberforth frowned, clearly un-amused. "The last lot of _unusual_ folk I had in was on Christmas Night, and you was one of them," he growled, clearly trying to illustrate the subjectivity of Remus' question.

"Now if you was to ask if I've had any _odd_ folk in in the past few days, I'd tell you I had a hag yesterday who downed three Firewhiskeys in a row, a man in a cloak who came in quietly and just sat watching everyone for a good hour or so, and a witch who looked like she had some ogre in her asking after Hagrid just last night."

Remus' interest was piqued, and Aberforth knew it. His mouth twisted into a grimace, he folded his arms firmly and condescendingly answered a few short questions about the cloaked man.

"And nothing else?" Remus added at the end, more out of habit than from any genuine concern.

The cloaked man story was very odd indeed, and Remus would be damned if he wasn't going straight up to Hogwarts to pass that particular piece of information on to Dumbledore the moment he left the bar. Aberforth's eyes flashed, inexplicably incensed.

"Yes, that's all, you young scoundrel. Don't you have anything better to do than pry into business what isn't your own?"

Remus frowned. "Clearly not," he mumbled, sighing. "I'll be out of your hair then."

Aberforth wasn't usually so hostile; in fact, Remus had only ever known him to be obliging, especially when it had come to supplying Sirius with Firewhiskey.

A hand caught his shoulder as he made to leave the room; Remus turned, startled, to meet Aberforth's agitated expression. His brilliant blue eyes were apologetic.

"Sorry, lad," he mumbled, frustrated. "I know you mean well – but don't go thinking you ain't the only one asking questions, all right?"

* * *

_"Really, Barty, I don't see this as a cause for concern."_

_Albus Dumbledore spread his hands, the gesture nothing if not casual and dismissive. Bartemis Crouch scowled. _

"_I will _not_ have a son of mine sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore!" he barked. _

_Dumbledore sighed, motioning for Crouch to take a seat. He waited politely as Crouch took the chair set before his Headmaster's desk; after glancing swiftly around his office, affording an affectionate smile at Fawkes, who watched him beadily, Dumbledore set himself down too. _

"_What is this really about, Barty?" he asked tiredly, supporting his head with a hand. _

_It wouldn't do for Barty Crouch to suspect anything; at all costs, Dumbledore knew he must remain patient and alert, regardless of the fact that he'd spent the past night in London talking with several of his contacts. _

"_I will not have my only child – my only _son_, Dumbledore – Sorted into a House of disrepute. I won't let him be influenced, I won't subject him to…"_

_Dumbledore nodded smoothly to fill the growing silence. It wasn't like Barty Crouch to find himself lost for words, not at all, but Dumbledore was certain his misgivings were nothing that couldn't be soothed with a little reassurance, and just a little well-applied logic._

_"Yes, very well – Barty, I do appreciate your reservations, but surely you can see that it would be best for young Bartemis to remain where he has been placed. The Sorting Hat, as you know, has its reasons, and I can no less doubt it's decision here than I can its decision to place you in Ravenclaw. What would you have me do?"_

_Crouch gritted his teeth. Always the opportunist, Dumbledore couldn't resist._

_"Slytherin is no less noble than any of our other fine Houses, Barty. Really, demanding your son be withdrawn and re-Sorted is not something I would encourage, not at all. After all, the last thing I would want to hear is that there's been a misunderstanding."_

_Dumbledore knew instantly that Crouch recognised the threat now hanging in the air between them._

_It was funny how little that seemed to matter, anymore...  
_

* * *

Sirius grinned, revving his bike.

"Where've you been?" he called, just loud enough for his voice to carry across the street to where James was strolling slowly away from the hospital.

His grin broadened as he watched his best friend spin, bright eyes scanning the crowd. Of course James had recognised his voice instantly; he'd lived with him too long, probably. Moments later, he'd crossed the street at an easy lope and stood in front of the bike, eyes twinkling.

"Paddy." There was a warning in his voice, and he'd schooled his expression into one of stern disapproval, but there was no masking the mischief in his eyes.

Sirius flapped a hand, dismissing all pretences impatiently. "You're not Head Boy anymore, Prongs," he scoffed. "You're an unemployed young fellow with nothing better to do than cause trouble."

He probably spoke louder than he should have; a yard away, an old darling on her way to the shops froze, affronted, and offered a glare. Sirius winked at her easily, and the woman hurried on, scowling. He bit back a laugh, catching James' eye easily and shrugging. He couldn't help that loved the idea of being so easily offensive, after all!

James rolled his eyes in response, shoving his hands into his pockets. Sirius could tell he was trying very hard to appear nonchalant.

"What did you have in mind?"

...

Remus scowled. "Sirius, I'd really rather you didn't, you know."

Sirius leant forward, his face alight with eagerness, elbows braced on his knees. "Come on, Moony, are you honestly saying it's impossible to put two strapping young ex-Aurors to any use? We'll do anything!"

James was reclined against the padded leather backrest of the Leaky Cauldron, looking almost bored. When Sirius had said 'productive', he'd imagined … well, something more interesting spending their morning honing around London on Sirius' motorcycle and agitating as many pedestrians as possible. Certainly, pleading with Remus for work was a slight improvement, especially since lunch had been involved, but ... James sighed, for the first time wondering if perhaps he'd made a mistake, leaving the Ministry? He was in the habit of doing something useful, now, and … well, Sirius' idea of gadding about was about as far from useful as James could name. What had happened to the dangerous undercover missions and daring feats of stupidity? Perhaps Sirius was losing his touch?

James gazed around the barroom casually. It was very nearly empty, apart from a gaggle of old witches in one corner, and a solitary woman drowning her sorrows at the bar who looked very much like…

"Moony, what we need is an effective way to get you your information, yes?"

Remus looked at him quizzically, clearly reluctant to agree. Nevertheless, he nodded.

"And Sirius," James pressed. "You'll do anything?"

Sirius rolled his eyes; his exasperation with how quickly Remus had refused his offer of help was almost comical.

"Of course!"

James folded his arms, smiling lazily. "Well then, I want you to go chat up that woman at the bar, Sirius. See what you can get out of her."

Remus coughed suddenly to hide his startled laugh; Sirius looked almost offended.

"Is this what its come to, James?" he murmured, doing a very poor impression of one deeply wounded. "You're pimping me out?"

James winked. "Think of it as a challenge, Sirius. We're testing your dedication."

If Sirius' biggest flaw wasn't his pride, James would swallow his wand; this thought had no longer flitted through James' mind than Sirius rose to his feet, smiling haughtily.

"Hmmpf. Too easy, Prongs."

Remus frowned curiously at James as they watched Sirius swagger towards the bar.

"What on earth are you playing at, Prongs? The woman's a hag!"

James raised his eyebrows impressively, his hazel eyes shining ironically.

"Oh, she's no hag, Moony. That's Snivelly's dear old Mum."

* * *

_"You know what, Vance? I'm glad you're happy. I'm so, so incredibly glad. You know why? Because you're beautiful, Vance, and I love you, and I did the wrong thing by you, and he hasn't, you know? You deserved better than me, and you got it, and I still love you, but I'm glad you're not …"_

_Emmeline Vance blinked, surprised. Sirius Black smiled at her lopsidedly; she'd never seen anyone so drunk. His left eye-lid dropped comically, and he was leaning heavily against her, one arm slung around her shoulder over-affectionately._

_"Right-o, Sirius, I think we've all heard enough of that, thanks."_

_Remus shot Emmeline an apologetic look as he tugged Sirius away from her; Peter slipped his head beneath Sirius' arm and helped him shoulder the weight._

_Emmeline watched in dumb silence as they proceeded to drag Sirius out of Lily and James' flat._

_"You OK, Em?"_

_James Potter's voice sounded beside her; she jumped, turning to face him reluctantly, feeling overwhelmed. He seemed to sense her discomfort; a fresh glass of raspberry rum was pressed into her numb hands._

_"I'm sorry you had to hear that," James continued affably, steering Emmeline into a seat on his lounge. Lily, deep in conversation with Alice Prewett, flashed her a smile and moved over to make room._

_Emmeline met James' eyes, and recognised a depth of understanding in them that startled her even more. James knew; James had known all along, perhaps._

_"Wh- what am I supposed to do with that, though? I mean – he was serious, wasn't he?"_

_James perched on the low coffee table, leaning towards her with a sympathetic smile. Emmeline noticed his hand stretched for Lily's knee unconsciously, and for a moment, she forgot to be anxious, and instead almost sighed with envy. Where was Benjy, anyway? But James was now replying._

_"I don't think you're supposed to do anything, Em. Sirius has been dealing with it, and … he'd probably prefer you didn't know, to be honest. I doubt he'll remember telling you, the state he's in!"_

_Emmeline sipped her drink doubtfully. "I think that's easier said than done, James – how am I supposed to pretend he didn't just … profess his love to me?"_

_James closed his eyes, and for one second his hand ghosted away from Lily, toward his face. Suddenly, he looked very tired._

_"It's been hard for Sirius, working with Benjy every day and knowing he's the one that gets to go home to you, Em. I know Sirius hasn't always been the best of friends, but … could you just try, for him? It'll be easier than you think, since like I said, he won't remember… You just need to take what he said with a grain of salt, as per usual, and everything will be fine."_

_Emmeline sipped at her drink again, taking her time as she pondered James' words. No wonder it'd been an age since Sirius had met her eyes! She swallowed, wincing as too much alcohol tried to force itself down her throat. Finally, she looked up again to meet James' eyes._

_"I suppose our conversation never happened, either?" she asked, smiling slightly._

_James winked. "Now now, Em, so ready to forget me? I want to hear all about your Quidditch, anyway. Merlin, I haven't spoken to you in ages…"_

* * *

Andromeda Tonks was livid. Her face was flushed, eyes bright, mouth set into a thin line. Lily was willing to bet she didn't look much more pleasant.

They'd been so busy that morning that Lily had laid aside Faustina's mountain of paperwork for later; sick of playing nurse to an ever-dwindling number of patients Andromeda and several of the other Healers were consolidating their wards, and all the Spell Damage patients had been moved into the largest ward, several rooms down. Lily had spent the best part of her day directing hospital beds, which had, despite its promise, not been a task for the light-hearted. Like everything in St Mungo's, the beds had seemed to possess a mind of their own, and Lily had had to jump out of the path of a hurtling trolley more than once.

For the first time in a while, though, Lily had enjoyed the sense of cheerful efficiency emanating from the Healers, and the patients, too, seemed more satisfied to be together. The empty wards held a cold sense of foreboding that nobody liked, and at least now they were all gathered together, for better or for worse…

The paperwork had rested, forgotten, on Andromeda's desk until late that afternoon.

"How can they do that?"

Andromeda didn't reply. Instead, her eyes gazed about the empty ward, restlessly, as though she were about to go and find some patients to fill those beds. It would be an act of defiance.

Lily dropped her gaze, feeling as though she were encroaching on something private. She'd never seen Andromeda like this before – not even when Faustina had thrown Nymphadora out of the hospital for disturbing the patients.

Instead, she stared at the mystifyingly purple stack of parchment Andromeda had slammed onto the desk only moments before. The pages were still settling, and they seemed to echo the pattern of Lily's disbelief.

_The Ministry of Magic wishes to inform the employees of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries that the new SafeCare policy, outlined below, is effective immediately. From now on, you may only treat patients who have been cleared for magical medical attention by virtue of their presence on the Ministry Safelist. Applicable persons will be found to carry the Ministry approved Token of Light, which signifies your patient can be trusted as non-detrimental to the security of those around them. All Ministry employees and their families have been issued with a Token…_

So anyone who didn't work for the Ministry was clearly considered to be a Death Eater, then. Lily closed her eyes, feeling hatred boil up inside her veins, impatient to burst free. Was this what James and Sirius had felt right before they'd walked out of Moody's office? Certainly, Lily couldn't blame them now; and yet –

A hand squeezed at her heart. They wouldn't have been issued with the tokens! For that matter, half of the Order wouldn't have them.

If there was an attack…

If they couldn't be treated…

Lily felt quite certain she was going to be sick.

"Lily? Lily!"

Lily glanced up, surprised. Two large hands shook her shoulders urgently; a face bent down to meet hers, the familiar eyes wide with concern.

James was shaking her.

_James?_

"Lily, snap out of it!"

Andromeda's droll voice sounded from the doorway; she seemed torn between frustration and amusement.

"Lily, we have to go. Hurry!" James was turning her around now, all-but levitating her to the door.

"I – I – what?"

"Lily." James moved around to face her again, his eyes worried as they read her face. "'Dromeda, I don't think she's well enough for-"

"Well enough?" Andromeda snapped. "She doesn't have a choice. Lily!"

Andromeda's voice lashed out like a whip; startled, Lily shook her head, gathering herself.

"James, what are you doing here? What's going on?"

James appeared all at once to be relieved and even more concerned. He didn't speak; he couldn't seem to find the words. Lily frowned, turning instead to Andromeda, who looked impatient.

_"Eloquent_, Potter. There's been an attack, Lily. We've got to go."

* * *

**Note: I know, I know. I'm sorry. Life is hectic, and I get these chapters done as fast as I can. Thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!! Reviews are most appreciated  
**

**Lexie**


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